


Replacement was never the right word

by sinspiration



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Overuse of italics, aftermath of the Pit, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-16
Updated: 2013-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-26 22:36:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7592887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinspiration/pseuds/sinspiration
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim learns that Jason is alive. So he goes to get him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Replacement was never the right word

“Wanna give me a reason why I shouldn’t beat you black and blue? Cut you to shreds and send back a corpse?”

 

Tim didn’t react to the goad. “If that’s what it’ll take.” Slowly, telegraphing as obviously as he could, he raised his right hand to his chest and pulled off the R shiruken. His left hand was working to deactivate and remove his belt. Once done, he focused on Jason and held both out.

 

Jason sneered. “The fuck that’s supposed to mean? You come in peace? Save it, bird boy.” He pushed off the wall, unsheathing his knife as he went. “I’ve got just a tad of frustration to work off, and I think you’d do fine.”

 

Tim inclined his head and dropped his weapons. Bruce _needed_ — He swiftly moved his hands to the clasps on his cape, letting it fall to a puddle at his feet. “Would seeing me bleed help?” He was scared out of his mind, but tried to sound as matter-of-fact as he could. Don’t let the fear show, just let him know there’s _trust_ “Do what you want.” He moved on to deactivating his tunic, tried to keep his breathing even, speech steady. “I’ve programmed my ride for home, in the event you don’t leave me capable to take you myself.” The tunic was on the floor, the t-shirt underneath sticking to his skin, and Jason’s expression was flickering through too many emotions to read.

 

“And just like that? Well, aren’t you a good little _dedicated_ Robin.”

 

The domino—he went for it, flipped the lenses up, tried to look at Jason and show him everything he meant. “The moment I even suspected you were alive, I was only keeping the suit warm.”

 

Jason snorted, flipped the knife in his fingers. Stepped forward and forward until the blade rested on Tim’s chest. “Grew out of it and its fucking clipped wings a long time ago, bird boy.”

 

“Then I’ll stay Robin. Batman needs a Robin. But Bruce needs _you_.” He shifted just enough that the knife caught the fabric of his shirt, sharp enough to tear it and nick the skin underneath.

 

“You’re a creepy little fuck,” Jason said, pulling the knife back, the tip of it red. “So that’s what daddy goes for now, huh?”

 

“No one,” Tim said, fighting shivers. “No one since you.”

 

He saw the punch coming, braced for it and clenched his hands together to keep from blocking. It took him down, nothing broken but blood vessels. Jason had held back. Now he was looming over him, glaring down.

 

“If I’m so fucking important,” he growled, “Why the fuck isn’t he here?”

 

Tim coughed. “He doesn’t know. You’re alive. Even I wasn’t sure until I saw you. Didn’t want to give him false hope.” Fail again. “Please. Please come home.”

 

Jason stared down at him, mouth twisted in a snarl, fists clenched, and knuckles white. “You wanna tell me what the fuck you’re getting out of this, bird boy?”

 

Tim looked up, reminded himself to keep his eyes open. “He has a case. In the part of the cave where he keeps--memories. With your old costume, a memorial to you. And he stands and stares at it every day. He’s never stopped mourning. He- he doesn’t know how.” You know that. That’s why he _is_ the Batman. That’s why I’m _here_.

 

Jason was clenching his fists so hard his arms were shaking. “Fuck you, kid.”

 

He knew it wasn’t what Jason meant, but Tim instantly shucked his shirt, hands then going to the waistband of his tights. He needed to prove he _meant_ it. “If you want.”

 

“What the—fuck—damn it— _kid_ .” And now Jason looked a strange mix of pissed off and _concerned_. “Stop!” The expression didn’t change until Tim dropped his hands. “Stand-up.” Tim did so, as slowly and as non-threatening as he could make himself. Stood there and waited while Jason scrutinized him.

 

After a long beat, Jason let out an angry breath and flipped the knife, sticking it into his belt sheath. “Why are you—“ he made a slicing motion with his hand, scowled. “Put your stuff back on. Jesus, how _old_ are you.”

 

“Fifteen,” Tim replied, before pulling his t-shirt back on and reaching for his tunic.

 

“Damn, you’re a puny fifteen.”

 

Tim didn’t flinch as he clasped the cape back around his throat. “I know.”

 

Jason was looking at him again like he wasn’t sure what to make of him. Tim grabbed his belt and the R shiruken and put them on, but kept the lenses of his domino up. “Will you come?”

 

“What guarantee do I have that it’d be worth it?”

 

Tim kept his hands by his sides. He was slightly less terrified now, and he was able to answer without stumbling. “You’d be going home. You’d get to see Bruce again.” A tiny pause. “You could probably throw a punch at him, if you wanted. And…” Tim swallowed. He wasn’t encouraging it, but if Jason maybe just took to the idea— “And you’d have your own shot at the Joker.”

 

Jason’s fingers flexed. “…yeah, okay.” He bared his teeth, not quite a grin. “Let’s go visit daddy.”

 

\-----

 

The trip was too long, Tim nervous and still afraid this wasn’t going to work, that it would turn out wrong, Jason obviously antsy, fingers clicking on the armrests as he all but strained to get out of his chair and prowl.

 

The entrance on the manor grounds opened and Tim landed smoothly; a wonder considering how much his hands were shaking.

 

This was it.

 

They unbuckled in silence and Tim glanced at Jason before taking point, leading him back into the cave.

 

Bruce was at the console, wearing a plain white undershirt and the black sweatpants he sometimes wore for workouts. He was staring at the monitors. All of them were showing the inside of the jet Tim had taken when he’d gotten wind of where Jason was.

 

“Bruce?” He didn’t stutter, and for that he was grateful. He could feel himself shaking. He wasn’t—couldn’t be, Robin for this. “I’m. He’s home.”

 

Slowly, agonizingly, Bruce stood up, back still to them.

 

“What,” Jason burst out. “You need a fucking—engraved invitation, old man?” His voice cracked and he clenched his fists, glaring around the room. He caught sight of the case. Stared at it hard before looking back to where Bruce stood.

 

His shoulders were shaking.

“Please, Bruce,” Tim didn’t even know what he was begging for, at this point. “Please, I—he’s _here_. He’s home!”

 

“And if you don’t fucking acknowledge me after all it took for me to _get_ here,” Jason snarled, “I mean fuck do you _know_ what the kid did?”

 

“Tim.” Tim froze.

 

“Yes, Bruce?”

 

“If you wouldn’t mind. Leaving us. For a minute.”

 

“Of course. Right. I’ll. Of course.” Tim scurried away, into the cave’s garage. Out of the way, but enough so he could hear, just a little—he couldn’t _leave_ , not yet. He had to know. Had to know that it would work. That things would be _better_.

 

And he could…he could go back home, if no one needed him anymore. He would.

 

He’d only been keeping the suit warm.

 

He was jerked out of his thoughts by the sounds of crashing, yelling. He wasn’t able to make out words, just the noises of fighting, accusing words, anger and hurt. It went on for a long, long time.

 

When he crept back in, several long minutes after the noise had died down, Bruce and Jason were kneeling on the floor together, holding each other tightly. Jason had both his hands wrapped around Bruce’s waist, his face buried in his shoulder. Bruce was holding with no less force, one hand cupping Jason’s head. Light glinted off the wet streaks on Bruce’s face.

 

Tim carefully, quietly, moved up the stairs and out of the cave as fast as he could and left them to their reunion.

 

\-----

 

Early the next morning, Tim was packing his things. His old camera, his laptop, some clothes…there wasn’t a lot that he needed to take with him. He didn’t want to go back to the house, even if it was technically his, but there were other places. There were dozens of hidey-hole apartments all over Gotham, just in case someone was too injured or too tired to go back to their real home after a patrol. He didn’t think Bruce would mind much if he stayed in one of them, at least for a little while; he just had to be discreet, so know one _knew_ he wasn’t living in the manor. And then he wouldn’t be at home, being a distraction.

 

Or a reminder of the time Jason had been gone.

 

He put what he wanted to take into a backpack, rechecked himself in the mirror to make sure his clothes looked normal enough, slung the backpack over his shoulder, and proceeded to make his way out of the manor.

 

Well. Tried to.

 

He had planned to make a stop in the cave; to leave a memory card of the things he had been working on that he had yet to transfer to the main computer, and to grab one of the less flashy bikes. Just to get into the city. No one would ID him with a helmet on, and he could leave it at another pick-up hide before making the rest of the way on foot. That was the plan.

 

The plan came to a stuttering halt when, as he carefully walked past Bruce’s door, it swung open and Jason walked out.

 

Tim froze.

 

Jason frowned, possibly at Tim’s expression, and gave him the once over.

 

“Hey,” he said, taking in the backpack. “What? You’re not headed to school at this hour, are you? I mean, I took you for a brain, but damn.”

 

“Um.” Tim said. “No, I was. Leaving.”

 

“Yeah?” Jason stretched out in the doorway, moving like he could take up the whole frame. Watching him move, fluid and _powerful,_ Tim felt small and useless. It was a good thing he was going. “Where to?”

 

“I.” He re-slung the backpack over his shoulder. Robin was cool and confident. Tim…wasn’t. Especially not around Jason. “Just. Out. To another…so I wouldn’t bother you.”

 

The frown deepened. “You were gonna take off.”

 

“I don’t need to be here, anymore,” Tim said, willing his voice steady. “He needed _you_. And. Now you’re here.”

 

“Fucking—” Jason leaned forward. “What about that whole bit about Batman needing a Robin? I might be _back_ , but I’m not following all his rules anymore. And I’m sure as hell too big for the pixie boots and panties.”

 

“I don’t, um. Wear those,” Tim said. “They’re just regular boots. Well. Batman issue boots. And you saw that I wear more than the leotard. I redesigned it.”

 

“Yeah,” Jason said. “Pants, why didn’t I think of that? But back to the topic at hand. Batman needs a Robin, and I’m not it.”

 

“I’ll still be Robin, at night. But he doesn’t need a Tim.”

 

Jason raised an eyebrow, then held out a hand. Tim stared at it.

 

“What? S’not like we were properly introduced, bird boy. I’m Jason.” Tim blinked and took Jason’s hand.

 

“I’m Tim,” he said. “But you knew that.”

 

Jason gave his hand a firm shake and then…held onto it. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean we’ve gotta throw away the formalities.” He pulled on Tim’s hand until the teen had to take a step closer to Jason. “Now, you wanna run by me again why you planned to take off, _Tim_?”

 

Tim tried to tug his hand back, to no avail. “It would be better,” he said. “If I wasn’t here all the time. Neither of you need a reminder that you were missing.” I don’t want to be in the way, I don’t want to _watch_ as I become less useful, I’d rather just disappear all at once instead of fading away slowly. I hated being alone in an empty house, please don’t make me become alone in a full one. Please don’t make me live that again. “Please don’t—” he snapped his mouth shut.

 

“Please don’t what?”

 

“I have to go,” Tim said.

 

“Yeah, okay.” Jason didn’t release Tim’s hand. “That’s cool.” There was the sound of a door closing, followed by the padding of bare feet over a carpeted floor. “Just run it by Bruce. I sure as hell don’t want to be the one left to explain your stupid-ass reasoning.”

 

“Tim?”

 

Bruce was there, in the doorway too, looking over Jason’s shoulder. He was in a bathrobe, his hair wet, and it was obvious he’d just gotten out of the shower. Jason had clearly been waiting for him to finish and come to the door. Which meant Jason had been stalling. Which meant Jason…didn’t want Tim to go?

 

“Tim?” Bruce asked again. “What’s going on?”

 

“I was just going,” Tim told the wrist Jason was holding captive. “I figured that I would stay in one of the safe house apartments for a little while.”

 

“Why?” Bruce sounded…concerned?

 

“I thought. I thought it would be a good idea to give you two some time together.”

 

“Geez, Tim, it’s not like the manor’s fucking _huge_. I’m pretty sure Bruce and I have a couple of places to catch up.”

 

Tim looks up at Jason, bewildered. “Why don’t you want me to go? I _replaced_ you. You should hate me.”

 

Jason looked at him like he’d grown another head. “Uh. In case you missed the memo, I was dead. And I think I mentioned this? I don’t want the job anymore.”

 

“It’s yours again if you ever do want it.”

 

“Yeah, I _got_ that. I said no thanks.”

 

Bruce placed a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “We’ll discuss this after breakfast,” he said. “Tim, please put your things back in your room? We’ll meet you downstairs.” Knowing Alfred, he was probably already up getting food ready.

 

Tim stared at the both of them, before slumping and turning around. Two pairs of eyes watched him trek back down the hall, until he turned a corner and was out of sight.

 

\-----

 

Tim didn’t end up leaving. No one would let him, and it felt silly trying to go after Jason made it crystal clear that he was just going to drag Tim _back_.

 

He didn’t understand why Jason was so adamant that Tim stayed, but if it’s what Jason wanted, Tim wasn’t about to deny him. Maybe…maybe he was sort of a buffer. Things were…tense between Jason and Bruce. There was a lot of yelling. Often. On the second night, as Bruce and Tim were suiting up for patrol, Jason threw a newspaper with a headline about the Joker’s latest Arkham break-out in Bruce’s face; grabbed the cowl and threw it into the trash.

 

“They know you’re not going to kill them!” he snarled. “All of them know! And you might strike fear into the hearts of the small-timers, but the crazy-ass psychos take that philosophy as an excuse for free hits! Joker’s just going to kill more people, and you know what? That’s on your head too. _Screw_ the no-kill rule; you’re killing innocent people _through_ the Joker and the rest like him, _because you won’t let them die_.”

 

He stood there, glaring daggers, chest heaving, and Bruce looked back, eyes shadowed. Tim…

 

Tim went out on patrol by himself.

 

As he circled through Gotham, stopping muggers, scaring off dealers—beating up the ones who wouldn’t just take scared, he wondered about what Jason said. It was true that the worst of the lot never stopped, they just picked back up again and kept going as soon as they were able to. They didn’t _care_ . They _deserved_ to be dead, if only to stop hurting other people.

 

Tim shuddered. Logical thinking was one thing. Physical action was another. He could never be the one to do it. Bruce couldn’t either. Jason…

 

Moving across rooftops, he wondered if he’d done the right thing. He hoped he had. He wanted to believe it. If Jason was alive, he shouldn’t stay dead. And Bruce needed him. And from what Tim could see, Jason needed Bruce, too.

 

He just. Wanted them to realize that. Wanted them to take the parts they knew about each other, the parts that didn’t _fit_ , and work them out together. It’s…it’s what families did, wasn’t it?

 

He knew that Jason and Bruce were close. Had been. 

 

But that had been a long time ago. They were both different now. Older, and older through violence and sadness and loss.

 

Still. They were Bruce and Jason. And it was clear that, even with everything, even Jason knowing that the Joker was still alive and Bruce knowing that Jason planned to _fix_ that—it was clear they still loved each other.

 

He’d done the right thing. He had. They just needed time, and for Tim to stay out of their way to let them relearn each other.

 

\-----

 

He spent a lot of time working on projects that allowed him to stay in his room on his laptop, or retreat to the cave when they weren’t there.

 

For the most part it worked, at least during the day. He found excuses to skip meals, and when that started seriously upsetting Alfred, at least figured out ways to avoid the family-style settings that Bruce (Alfred) favored. He found that Alfred was much more willing to let him eat earlier or later if he was going outside. So Tim found himself spending a lot of time walking around the grounds of the manor, or heading into the city to explore. He enrolled himself in some college classes so that he would have extra excuses to study. For some reason, Alfred was much more willing to allow you to eat in your room if you were working on a paper on microeconomics for school, over a paper detailing Ivy’s latest experiments. Even when Bruce or Tim were identity deep in case research, Alfred had made them take breaks for a sit-down meals.

 

So he found ways to keep out of sight, with the exception of nightly patrol. Bruce and Jason still had…opinions on how that would be done. Tim found himself heading out on his own more often than not, though Bruce tended to join him later.

 

Tim suspected that Jason was doing his own patrols, and that some of the arguments stemmed for that. But Jason never made any reference to the idea he wanted Robin back, and that was something Tim couldn’t make himself push. Robin was one of the few things he had left. Bruce had Jason, and neither needed Tim. But Batman would always need a Robin.

 

“Hey, Replacement.” Tim looked up from his weights. Ten reps, seventh set…

 

“Hello.” Jason had taken to using that name, since the night Tim had suggested it be a reason for Jason to hate him. Apparently Jason thought both it and Tim was amusing. He used Replacement as a nickname regularly, switching it off with bird boy.

 

He didn’t use Tim’s name all that often. Tim wasn’t sure if it was because Jason just liked nicknames, or for some other reason.

 

Tim continued his repetitions while he waited for Jason to say something. For his part, it seemed like Jason was perfectly content to just watch silently.

 

Ten reps, tenth set…

 

“So,” Jason said, breaking the silence. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

Jason held out a hand in an obvious “gimme” gesture. Tim stared at it for a second before handing him one of the dumbbells. Jason took it like it weighed nothing and set it down on the floor and motioned for Tim do to the same with the one he still held in his hand.

 

Tim put it down. And waited. After a moment, Jason exhaled noisily. And reached over to poke Tim in the stomach.

 

“Um?”

 

“Man, you are the boniest little bird I’ve ever seen. You do still _eat_ even when you’re skipping family dinner, right? I’m sort of obliged to be mad at you if you don’t take the opportunity of food available.”

 

That was a nonsequitor if Tim had ever heard one. “I eat. Usually. Sometimes I’m just busy with other things.”

 

“Like avoiding Bruce and me?” Jason said, eyebrow raised. Ah. No longer such a nonsequitor. “You know, the point of us stopping you from leaving was so you still _lived here_.”

 

“I do.”

 

Jason snorted. “Yeah, hiding in your room, the cave, or the city park that’s the backyard doesn’t really cut it. What’s going on? Why are you trying to disappear?” He poked Tim’s stomach again. “Maybe literally.”

 

“I’m. I’m not. I’m just trying to stay out of the way.” He can’t compare us when we aren’t side-by-side. I can’t disappoint anyone when I’m not around. Relationships happen when I’m not involved.

 

No one can leave me if I’ve already left.

 

“Stay out of the way of _what_?”

 

Tim shrugged, trying for casual. “You have a lot of catching up to do. I don’t want to be in the way.”

 

Jason frowned at him again, and Tim couldn’t help but shrink back just a little. “Okay, seriously, where is that coming from? I know you’re not afraid of me. You better _not_ be, considering the stuff you pulled when we met.”

 

“I’m not afraid of you.” Not really. A little. But you’re _Jason_ . Bruce’s Jason. The second Robin. Bruce _recovered_ from Dick, or at least allowed himself to live, after he left. He needed _me_ to recover from you and he never really…did. “I. Robin. Is a lot more confident than I am.”

 

Jason looked him over, the frown still in place. “You got that right. But you’ve _got_ guts, kid. I mean, I did _ask_ Bruce how the hell you happened. He only gave me part of the story, but enough to know you figured it _out_. You’ve got a freaky, brilliant little brain in there, don’t you?”

 

“I. It wasn’t. Um.” He looked longingly at the weights. They wouldn’t make him have a conversation.

 

“Heh, no, I don’t think so, bird boy. I’ve been wanting to get you to talk for a while now. You’re not escaping from me yet.”

 

“Have…have things gotten better with Bruce?” Tim asked hopefully. Jason just _looked_ at him for a moment, before he sighed a scrubbed a hand through his hair.

 

“It’ll get there,” he said after a moment. “Maybe. Can’t say I want to forgive him for everything he _hasn’t_ done. Can’t say he’s gonna forgive _me_ for everything I’m _going_ to do.”

 

“You’re not…you’re not leaving?” Tim asked. Please don’t. _Please_ don’t.

 

“And if that didn’t just send you into a panic attack—“ Jason huffed out a breath. “Okay, you really gotta tell me why you’re so invested in Bruce an’ me. Actual words.”

 

Tim shrugged. “I’m not good enough. I never was, especially not after he’d gotten used to Dick, and then you. And he never got over your death—never stopped missing you. It was with him…everywhere. All the time. Then when…I. I visited your grave. He can’t. He…he can’t. And you…” Tim takes a breath. “The fact that I’m Robin was because he was going too far. Too rough, too brutal, becoming what he was fighting. Because you were gone. If there was the _chance_ to get you back, I had to try. And now you _are_ back and he…he needs you.”

 

Jason gave Tim a narrow look. “Are you in love with Bruce or something?”

 

“Wha—no! No, I… _No_ .” He knew he was blushing and _hated_ it.

 

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. That’s supposed to convince me?” Tim blushed harder.

 

“I—that’s not—That’s not _relevant_. Or appropriate!” Jason crossed his arms.

 

“It is if you’re trying to throw us together so _you_ don’t have to man up and deal with your own feelings.”

 

“That’s—” Tim _glared_ . “That is not even _remotely_ close to true! Bruce _missed_ you. Every day, every _second_ you weren’t there he was missing you. I can’t _be_ that. I don’t know how to be and I don’t _want_ to be. I’m _not_ your…your replacement. I’m Robin because Batman _needed_ one; to keep him from brutalizing criminals so badly they couldn’t do anything even if they _got_ rehabilitated. But I’m Tim the rest of the time, and Robin can handle Batman, but Tim doesn’t have a _hope_ of keeping _Bruce_ around during the off hours. You’re Jason. You can.”

 

“You really seem to have a awful fucking lot of ideas about what I can do, kid.”

 

Tim met his eyes. “I’ve been around long enough to know they’re all _right_.”

 

Jason snorted and grinned. “See, there’s the whole personality I’ve been looking for. Why the fuck do you retreat into little mister blank face so often?”

 

“I.”

 

“Shit, no, stop it, because there it is again.” Jason huffed. “Seriously, _explain_ that. I couldn’t manage _that_ kind of into-my-headspace when I was _hooking_ , and I knew some damn good tricks of the trade. I know you picked him, instead of the other way around. Where’d you come _from_?”

 

“I—” Tim looked down at the floor. He wasn’t sure what to say, what to tell Jason that would mollify him enough, that would make him realize that Tim wasn’t _important_. Not enough for this kind of attention.

 

“Tim will tell you Jason, but in his own time.” And there was Bruce, coming out of the shadows like he always did, and Tim was incredibly grateful. He had done _enough_ with the weights, to leave them for now, so if he just managed to fade back into the woodwork…

 

He took a step back and Jason actually swung around again to _look_ at him, pinning Tim in place. A moment later, a heavy hand landed on his shoulder, and he jumped internally. Bruce almost never touched him, outside of treating injuries.

 

“I was just. I was just going to go outside,” Tim mumbled. “For a run.”

 

“That can wait,” Bruce said. “I believe it is time for the three of us to…talk.”

 

Tim managed to keep from turning wide, startled eyes on Bruce, but only just. Jason didn’t bother holding back.

 

“Whoa, whoa, B, you want to actually _talk_ about something? Like, feelings and shit? Willingly? Damn. Wow.” Jason shook his head, actually looking a little _blown_ . Then he recovered and grinned, wide and a little feral. “Yeah, okay, _let’s_.”

 

This, Tim thought, would be an excellent time to _leave_ except for the fact that a large, heavy hand was still covering his shoulder. He chanced a look up.

 

“Bruce, I can. Leave.” Bruce gave him a gentle squeeze.

 

“I think I want you to be here for this, Tim,” he said.

 

“Um. I. Okay.”

 

“Jason,” Bruce started. “You know I’m…I’m so happy that you’re back. I don’t even have words to express it.” His hand tightened on Tim’s shoulder again, before relaxing. “And I understand your unhappiness as if it were my own. The Joker…” Bruce shook his head, voice growing darker, harder. “I wanted to kill him. Like I’ve never wanted anything in my _life_ . And I took those feelings out on everyone who wasn’t him, because I knew that there would be no going back from that. I _knew_ that of myself, Jason. I would kill again, after him. And again, and again, and I could justify it by saying that I was removing scum that weren’t fit to exist, that they _had_ no chance other than this.”

 

Bruce dropped his head and just breathed before making eye contact once more. “A part of me still wants that, wants to be able to come to terms with taking the law so far into my own hands that I would trust myself to kill. But I do not _want_ that of myself. I don’t feel that I’m so much better than the rest of the world that I could trust myself to make those decisions. The most important ones a person could ever make. I battle demons every day, Jason. Many of them are my own. You…you knew that about me. I can’t allow myself to feed them. Else Gotham gains just another madman, for that’s where the spiral would lead.”

 

Jason searched Bruce’s face, breathing loud and ragged. Bruce, for his part, offered Jason his honest expression and did nothing to mask the haunted, twisted thing it was. Tim stood and waited, feeling very small and very intrusive, the hand on his shoulder burning its touch into his mind.

 

The moment stretched and writhed and hissed, the only sound in the cave being their breathing and the occasionally flap of the bats.

 

Jason was the one to break the standoff, tearing his eyes away, his hands balled into fists. They were shaking. “Damn it, I…. _damn it_ .” He brought a hand up to his face. “Bruce, I fucking— _missed_ you.”

 

“Jason. Jay.” Bruce finally ( _no_ ) let go of Tim to move toward Jason, wrapping him in a hug and pulling him in close. Jason clutched back at him. “I never stopped missing you.”

 

Jason let out a hiccup of a laugh. “Yeah, I _got_ that. From your little baby bird.” He didn’t look up, but “And he better _not_ be trying to sneak away, right now.” Tim froze where he stood, having only made it three feet in the direction of an exit.

 

“Tim.” Bruce was still holding Jason, and now they were both _looking_ at him. “I never want you to think that I am not grateful. You’ve given me…” His arms tightened, and Jason hiccup-laughed again.

 

“What he’s saying is get your tiny ass _over_ here,” Jason said, moving a hand just enough to beckon with it. “Hugs for the whole family present.”

 

Tim went over slowly, hoping they would change his mind by the time he got there. No such luck. Both Jason and Bruce put out a hand to drag him forward and _in_ until he was being crushed against their much larger bodies. He whimpered quietly and just closed his eyes and held on.

 

When Bruce breathed deeply once last time before releasing them, Jason kept a hold on Tim for a moment longer, planting a kiss in his hair.

 

“Thanks, baby bird,” he said in a rough whisper. “I’m going to get you understand that I mean that.”

 

\-----

 

Things were much less tense after that, for the most part, at least between Bruce and Jason. They talked. They sparred. They actively spent time together. A few times, Tim had even heard Bruce _laugh_ . A _real_ laugh. He had never, actually, heard that sound before. It made him feel sort of bubbly, under the feelings of crushing disappointment that it was something he’d never be able to make happen. Bruce and Tim’s relationship had never really been tense, just…streamlined. To what was important. The thing was—

 

The thing _was_ that Jason kept seeking him out now. More than he had _before_ and it was disconcerting. He kept wanting to talk and that was…great? Except Tim wasn’t really used to living someplace where the other residents continually sought out his company. He never knew what to say, or what Jason wanted. It didn’t help that Jason’s choice of conversation topics were _random_.

 

Like,

 

“Have you ever wanted a piercing?”

 

“Not really? I mean, if I got one, it would just make that area more vulnerable in a fight.”

 

“Aw, that’s a shame. You’d probably look cute as hell with some metal in your ears.”

 

“Um.”

 

Or,

 

“How the fuck do you not have a favorite Bond villain? You’ve watched the movies right?”

 

“Only two of them.” When he was younger, in an attempt to get some jokes made by his classmates.

 

“What? No, seriously? No, okay, no, we are marathoning that shit right now.”

 

“But—”

 

“Right. Now.”

 

And,

 

“Oh god, really? You’re not fucking with me? That’s _hilarious_ . And you _like_ it?”

 

“You asked what my favorite pizza toppings are, so I assumed you wanted my favorite. So yes. That’s what I like. It’s—it’s not that funny.”

 

“Oh man, okay, my sides hurt, oh shit. Okay, okay, I’m over it.”

 

“ _Good_.”

 

“…think Alfred will kill us if we order pizza?”

 

All in all, it was _confusing_ . Jason, by the look of it, was trying to make friends. And, okay, yeah, that was sort of amazing. And Tim was _trying_. He didn’t really understand what Jason could possibly see in him, though. Mostly when Tim had friends, they played D &D and talked about Elfquest and that was as far as it got. And he didn’t really think Jason was much into role-playing.

 

Still it was…nice, to have someone close-by to hang out with, someone near enough his own age that he didn’t feel like the little brother getting in the way of the older kids, someone who seemed to _want_ to spend time with him. He let Jason take the lead on most of their activities or conversations and…well. As long as Jason was the one instigating it, Tim didn’t have to feel bad about anything. Right.

 

“Hey, bird boy.”

 

Tim turned another page in his book. He was reading in the library, and Jason had come in about ten minutes ago, but he hadn’t said anything until now.

 

“Hm?” Suddenly Jason was right in front of him, pushing the book down.

 

“Pay attention to _me_ for a minute, okay? I got a question.”

 

Tim blinked, but obligingly closed the book. “Yeah?”

 

“Don’t freak out on me. We need to have this conversation. Shove over.”

 

That…didn’t sound good, but Tim moved to the side so that Jason had room to sit down next to him on the couch, turned a little so they were facing each other and bumping legs. “I’ll try,” Tim said warily.

 

“You _do_ know that Bruce and I have never had sex, right?”

 

Tim…stared. And stared more. And then opened his mouth once Jason crossed his arms and looked impatient. “I—oh? That’s…information.”

 

Jason rubbed at his face. “No, really. I don’t know where you got the idea, but yeah, no. Nothing’s ever happened between us. Not like that.”

 

The morning after Jason returned, he’d come out of Bruce’s _bedroom_. “But you love each other,” Tim blurted out.

 

Jason gave him a funny look. “…yeah. And?”

 

“And you’re…close,” Tim said, floundering a little.

 

“Not like the old days,” Jason muttered.

 

Tim held up his hands. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to. Assume anything.”

 

Jason clapped him on the shoulder and Tim only twitched a little. Jason frowned, but all he said was, “Not your fault. Two plus two _usually_ equals four. Doesn’t always lead to sex.”

 

Tim just nodded. “Okay?” Jason was frowning harder. “Okay! I’m sorry!”

 

Jason let out an angry breath and shook him a little. “No, damn it, this is where you argue your point and ask me questions like ‘if you aren’t fucking, why do you keep ending up in his bedroom’ and we _bond._ ”

 

Tim glanced helplessly towards the door. Maybe if he took Jason by surprise with a nerve-strike it would be enough of a distraction for him to disappear.

 

Jason caught his hand. And glared.

 

“Yeah, maybe that would work if I wasn’t fucking _staring_ at you.”

 

“I’m sorry!” He tried to yank his hand back and Jason shifted his grip into a _hold_.

 

“Never was too good at the subtle stuff,” he said with a sigh. “Now are we gonna talk about this, or what?”

 

“Is what an option?” Tim managed weakly while trying again to tug his hand free. Jason grinned.

 

“Nope. Now ask.”

 

Tim sighed. “If you aren’t fucking, why do you keep ending up in his bedroom,” he said as flatly as he could.

 

“That’s an _excellent_ question, baby bird. But kinda personal, don’t you think? So I’ll answer, but then I get to ask one of my own.”

 

Where was this _going_? “Okay?”

 

“I’m finally big enough to wrestle him out of his nightmares.”

 

“…What?”

 

Jason shrugged. “Yeah. I tried a couple times when I was younger, but he nearly thrashed me in his sleep. Figured I was strong enough to handle it this time. He wakes up pretty easy, but you need to get close enough without him _breaking_ you first.”

 

“Oh. That’s…from the first night?”

 

“Yup. That and it kinda makes me feel better to check on him. I’m here, he’s here.” Jason’s frown turned inward. “It’s still _weird_ , you know?”

 

Tim nodded.

 

“Can’t say I’m surprised that’s what you were thinking about though.”

 

“What? Oh. Sex.”

 

This time the grin was rueful. “Hell, I thought that’s what he wanted when he first picked me up. Taking in a street kid? Adopting him as _Bruce Wayne_? Figured he was just another sick rich guy wanting a kept trick.” Jason shook his head. “And then for the first couple of days he forgot I existed. Kept wandering around this place waiting for the other shoe to drop.” He laughed.

 

“And then a pair of them did. Into my lap. Along with new clothes, and games, and hell. He kept _giving_ me stuff. That only make it worse, cause it wasn’t like I had a way to pay him back aside from the obvious.”

 

“He’s—he’s a very generous man,” Tim said.

 

“Yeah. Fuck if I knew that then. It got me so edgy that I just offered it up one night, to get it over with.”

 

“You—” Tim was pretty sure his eyes were as round as they could physically get. “What happened?”

 

“He got all grim and told me I was ‘to never do this again’ and sent me to bed. Alfred brought me cookies. And then time kept passing and I was training as _Robin_ and eventually it started crossing my mind that maybe this guy just wanted _me,_ no ulterior motive or anything.”

 

Another rueful grin. “Which sort of sucked a little bit, because by that time I was in love with him and _really_ wouldn’t have said no if he asked.”

 

“But he…didn’t.”

 

Jason shook his head. “Never. I got mad at him for it too. Pushed the issue a couple of times. Then he got mad at me _back_ and said that he was working to _stop_ the corruption of children, and that I might as well ask him to kill for me.”

 

Tim was pretty sure he felt his heart stutter. Jason squeezed his wrists and…since when was he holding _both_ of them? “So yeah,” he said. “We’ve got a history. Just not that kind.” And pause, then, “Shit, don’t know when this turned from sex into a lifetime movie.”

 

“It’s okay,” Tim said in a rush. “Uh. Does it…now that you’re back…?”

 

Jason let go of one wrist and leaned back a little against the arm of the couch. “Truth? It’s on my mind, but way less than it used to be. I was older than most kids my age when he picked me up, and, heh, I’m definitely older now; dying tends to age a guy. Think he’s still adjusting to that. But he’s Bruce. For a long time he was my best friend. Fuck yeah, I still love him. But I’m his _kid_. And at this point I’m cool with that.” He poked Tim in the shoulder with his free hand. “Not all roads have to lead to sex.”

 

“I _know_ that,” Tim said. “And I’m not a kid.”

 

Jason sighed. “Yeah, I know you’re not. Robin can’t be, not really. Even though I’m pretty sure that was the whole _point_ . Anyway. _My_ point. Yeah, I love Bruce. He loves me. We’re still working out the rest of it.”

 

“That’s good,” Tim said, managing to sound normal. Was Jason _going_ to let go of him? “I hope you work it out. Can you let go of my arm?”

 

“Don’t think that’s such a good idea, baby bird. Since I’m pretty sure you’ll try to bolt now that it’s _my_ turn to ask questions.”

 

Oh. Right.

 

Great.

 

“And I get five. That’s how many you got. I’m letting a couple of your question- _statements_ slide though, so feel lucky.” Tim didn’t feel lucky. But if Jason wanted an interrogation, he wasn’t about to say _no_. Considering how much Tim knew about him, it was probably only fair.

 

“Go ahead and ask,” Tim said. “I promise I won’t bolt.”

 

Jason laughed and shook Tim’s arm. “That’s nice. Think I’ll hold on anyway, just to make sure.”

 

“Fine,” Tim huffed. “Questions? I _was_ reading.” Jason _ruffled his hair_. Tim glared at him and batted his hand away. Jason laughed.

 

“ _Questions_ ,” Tim growled.

 

Jason chuckled again. “That right there,” he said. “ _That’s_ you. Not this quiet shadow boy thing you keep pulling on us. Why don’t you tell me what that’s all about?”

 

“I _am_ quiet,” Tim said, pulling on the hold Jason still had on his wrist. “I _like_ being quiet.”

 

“You promised you wouldn’t bolt, baby bird,” Jason reminded him. “So stop trying to get away, huh?”

 

Tim sighed. “Look, I don’t know what you _want_ , exactly. I’m quiet. I’m geeky. I’m never going to live up to what you left behind, and I don’t want to. I’m just…I’m just me. I’m just Tim.”

 

Jason nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. So who was it who told you they were better off if you left them alone?”

 

“I—what?”

 

“You heard me.”

 

Tim looked away. “I…no one.”

 

“Then why do you _think_ everyone’s better off if you leave them alone?”

 

“That’s not…true.” Jason just gave him a _look_ , so Tim barreled on. “Sometimes it’s just better for people to have time to themselves. No one wants to be a third wheel, Jason. That’s all.”

 

Jason was still _looking_ at him. “ _What_?” he snapped, uncomfortable.

 

“You didn’t get hugged much as a kid, did you.”

 

“Does that count as a question?” Tim said, hotly.

 

“Nah,” Jason shook his head. “That’s an observation.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yup. You can’t fully understand the concept of love, you freakin’ hold your breath if you think you might be interrupting something, you don’t even know what to _do_ when someone pays attention to you, much less attempts to spend time with you, and you get all twitchy over physical contact.” He leaned forward. “I was raised by the world’s greatest detective _too_ , you know.”

 

“That’s—” Completely wrong. Entirely too accurate. “What does that _matter_?”

 

“Just want to figure you out a little, baby bird,” Jason said, _finally_ releasing Tim’s wrist and holding up both his hands. “That’s all.”

 

Tim scrambled to his feet as soon as he was released and took a big step away from the couch and Jason. “I don’t _need_ to be figured out,” he said. “There’s nothing _to_ figure out. I’m just _me_ , doing a job I’m not good enough at.” He made a hasty retreat towards the door.

 

“Hey,” Jason called. “I’m good for one more question, baby bird.”

 

“It’s _Tim_ ,” he said, cheeks hot. “And you can just—save it.”

 

He retreated to his room and stayed there until Alfred called him down for dinner.

 

He kept his eyes glued to his plate the entire meal.

 

He went back up to his room and did school work until it was time to go down to the Cave.

 

Jason backed him against the cabinets as Tim was suiting up for his stretches. He was wearing a leather jacket and a red domino, lenses down so Tim couldn’t see his eyes.

 

“You owe me a question, baby bird,” he said with a grin, one hand on Tim’s shoulder holding him in place. “And I’m saving it for something special, just like you said to. But when I ask, whatever it is, you’re _answering_ me, got it? No run-arounds.”

 

Tim swallowed and nodded.

 

Jason frowned, which made Tim shrink back, which made Jason frown _harder_. But all he said was “Glad we’re on the same page,” before he was grabbing a helmet and hopping on a bike.

 

Tim watched him speed away and wondered if he’d just managed to ruin everything.

 

\-----

 

Tim arrived home late after patrol. He parked the redbird in its usual spot and noticed Jason wasn’t back yet.

 

Well. Jason was doing some of his own thing. Tim knew he’d been working on a few specific areas. He was…more brutal than he or Bruce was, but he hadn’t killed anyone yet. That Tim knew about.

 

Bruce was, at the moment, trying not to get too involved with Jason’s activities, apparently.

 

He stripped down and then went to type up his report, the sounds of the Batmobile getting in following a little later.

 

“Hi, Bruce,” he said, not looking up. “I’m almost done.”

 

“Take your time,” Bruce said, as removed the cowl.

 

He was finished only a few moments later, and hopped up from the chair. “Bruce?”

 

Bruce turned from setting down his things. “Yes?”

 

“I met that girl again today,” Tim said. “The Spoiler.”

 

“Really.”

 

“Yeah. We uh, we hung out for a little while. During my break. And. A little later on.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“She really doesn’t have a lot of experience,” Tim barreled on, “But she’s got at least some training. Not a lot. She could. Use more. To be safer. I think it might be a good idea to spend more time with her.”

 

“Did you put down your meeting and thoughts in your report?”

 

Tim nodded. “Yeah. Everything. I have a good base to start learning more about who she is. And. Including uh…you know, a possible training…schedule.”

 

Bruce looked at Tim, gaze steady. Tim held his ground and kept eye contact.

 

“We’ll see,” Bruce said, after a moment. “You’re done for the night.”

 

“Okay,” Tim said. He glanced at the spot where Jason’s bike was missing one last time, and then headed upstairs to his room.

 

\-----

 

Bruce and Jason were already at the table when Tim came down from breakfast that morning, which was unusual; Jason wasn’t normally an early riser, and he had to have gotten in _late_. Tim greeted them both and then took his normal seat, while Alfred served them.

 

Bruce and Jason were in the middle of discussing…

 

“His return?”

 

Bruce nodded. “Of course, Tim. I have no intention of forcing Jason to hide from the outside world, and I _want_ to be able to treat him publicly as my son. Not to mention that he still has to finish school.” Jason rolled his eyes. Bruce ignored him. “We’ve been working through the basics of a story that explains the fact that he, well, isn’t dead.”

 

“The problem is that I was _pretty_ obviously dead. So far the idea is that the factory accident I died in had more than just one casualty; a kid who was exploring or some shit like that. Factory explodes, he kicks it, I end up with amnesia wandering around the place.”

 

Tim frowned. “But how are you going to explain the—the fact that you looked so much alike?”

 

Jason grinned. “See, that’s where mommy dearest helps out. After I showed up again and my DNA and dental matched to prove it was me, Bruce and I of _course_ wondered about the poor kid in the casket. No one ever knew she had _me_ , so know one would know if she, you know, had another kid a year before or after. And what do you know, it turns out she _did_. His name was Keith, and he was on her payroll, working for her. We even managed to dig up a birth certificate. We kept the fact I was alive quiet for a couple of months so I could mourn the mother I never knew and the brother I never knew I had, without the paparazzi breathing down my neck..”

 

“But,” Bruce clapped Jason on the shoulder, “It’s _high_ time he rejoined us in society, I thought, hahaha.”

 

“Oh ew,” Jason shrugged off the hand. “Seriously, leave Brucie to when you’ve _gotta_ , okay? I’m making that a rule.”

 

“ _Thank you_ ,” Tim said fervently. Brucie was a small-dose-only, surrounded-by-other- _people_ persona.

 

Jason grinned at him and stabbed at another bite of crepe. “So yeah,” he continued, after popping it into his mouth, “That’s the plan. Then there’s the whole other side of my return.”

 

Tim got that one immediately. “The hero community?”

 

“Yes,” Bruce said. “Superman knows of course, and I’ve told him to keep it quiet until we figure out more about Jason’s…proclivities.”

 

“Also, he’s _freaked_ over what Dick’s gonna do.” Jason ate some more of his food, while Bruce looked moodily at his own plate.

 

Tim hadn’t even _thought_ about Dick, since Jason had gotten back. There was just too much else to think about and…

 

How _would_ he react? Dick had been really upset over Jason’s death, but he and Jason weren’t always on the best of terms when Jason was alive before. Things would hopefully be different now, be better. Dick was part of another team and didn’t come by as often; he was well and truly emancipated now. Of course he would have to know.

 

“Barbara too,” Tim said. “She should know. Sooner.”

 

Jason smirked. “Yeah, uh, Babs already _does_ ,” he said. “She’s been giving me intel on some of my ‘projects.’”

 

“Oh.” Tim…hadn’t known that. He supposed that it didn’t matter but…no. It didn’t. He wanted to be happy about it. He _was_ happy about it. Barbara’s acceptance meant a _lot_. He should…he was probably overdue a visit to her, now that he thought about it. “That’s good.”

 

He looked down at his plate. Jason was enjoying the crepe, and it was an Alfred creation so of course it tasted fantastic. He just wasn’t very hungry.

 

“Do you need me for any planning? Or…anything?” He rushed on before they could answer, “Because if you don’t I have a few things I wanted to work on…if you don’t need me.”

 

Jason frowned, and Bruce looked puzzled. “What projects?”

 

Um. Um. “The. I. A team.” What? But he’d already said it. He let his mouth just _run_ , “I was thinking that maybe, since Jason’s back and will be working with us, even if it isn’t strictly _with_ us, so to speak, I might take more time for. For a team. Of…peers. Like when Dick had the teen titans. So I could have…friends? My age? In the life.”

 

Both Bruce and Jason’s eyebrows shot up at that, but Bruce merely nodded his head. “I see. Did you have anyone in mind…?”

 

“There’s—two. The speedster. Bart Allen? The one that Wally’s kind of working with. And. Superboy. They’re both powered, obviously, but Dick kept up with his team just fine and it would be a good idea to get to know them anyway. And I’m pretty sure Robin might be a good…not leader, yet, but…way to focus them more? And train them. I mean, we’d all be training and…learning?”

 

It wasn’t like this idea was out of the blue. Tim had thought about it before, though never very _seriously_ past…wanting some friends that he might be able to relate to more. And he _had_ worked with both Impulse and Superboy a few times before, and they got along pretty well, all things considered. He said as much, and now Bruce was wearing his contemplative face. Jason was…concentrating on his crepe.

 

“You think this team would be a good idea, Tim?” Tim nodded, all honesty.

 

“Well, yeah. It’s never a bad thing to get more friends and yes they’re supers so we wouldn’t be based out of Gotham or anything, but lots of places could use us, once we learned how to work as a team. Not to mention that the training would be…beneficial. I’d get more experience with speedsters and Superboy’s abilites, and they’d be able to learn more about how to work with humans. I’ve…made a few training simulations, thinking about it.”

 

“Wait a minute,” Jason burst out, “Super _boy_? Exactly what are we talking about here?”

 

“Superman’s DNA was cloned through Cadmus labs,” Bruce said. “The result is currently operating in Hawaii, under the name Superboy. He does not appear to have a secret identity. I’ll give you his file after breakfast.”

 

“Fucking hell,” Jason said. “What does Big Blue think about that?”

 

“They…aren’t on the best of terms,” Tim said. “I was thinking that, uh, maybe the team thing might help that. A little.”

 

“Did you have anyone else in mind, Tim?”

 

Tim blinked. “Um. Not…I. Um?”

 

“Someone else you thought might need training?”

 

“Spoiler?” Tim asked, genuinely shocked. “I. I. Yes, maybe? I don’t see why not—after we learn more about her. If you think it’s a good idea!”

 

Bruce nodded. “Perhaps after we do some more digging. And you got to know her better.”

 

Tim beamed. “Okay! I—she’s really great, Bruce. She’s got a lot of potential, I think. And she’s…” he paused, trying to find the right word. “Fun. She’s fun.”

 

“Spoiler?” Jason said, mouth twisted. “And she is?”

 

“A new vigilante,” Tim said. “I’ve only met her a couple of times, but I think she’s good for it.”

 

“What’s she sporting, one of those baring-everything costumes? She hot?” The questions were probably supposed to be teasing but the tone was…weird.

 

Tim blinked. “Uh…she’s completely covered? But her hair is blonde—I caught sight of a couple of strands on her costume that probably weren’t from another person, and from how she speaks and her tones coupled with her accent, I’m fairly positive she’s Caucasian. I don’t really know anything else about her looks yet.”

 

Jason rolled his eyes. “And you can’t tell what her _body’s_ like? If she’s leaping off rooftops with you, the things gotta at least be _formfitting_ , bird boy. She curvy? Stacked? You can’t tell me you haven’t _noticed_.”

 

“I—Her physique is entirely adequate for her chosen…hobby,” Tim said. His face was getting red, he knew it. He stared down at his plate.

 

“That’s enough for now, Jason,” Bruce said, sounding both amused and stern at the same time. “Tim, finish your breakfast. Then you’re free to do what you want.”

 

“…thanks,” Tim mumbled, before turning his attention to his plate. Jason and Bruce let him be, returning to their own discussion, but Jason shoved away from the table soon after, muttering something about wanting to go for a run.

 

\-----

 

After breakfast, Tim went down to do some work in the cave before leaving for school. He was planning to start working seriously on the team idea. If Bruce had given the go ahead, Tim was going to do his best to make it work.

 

He called up the images and profiles of his first two candidates, Impulse and Superboy and, after a moment’s hesitation, opened the file that he’d started on The Spoiler. That one didn’t have much in it; a few pictures Tim had snapped surreptitiously, Tim’s approximations of her height and abilities, and a few other observations. He’d put a tracer on her costume last night, and spent a few minutes uploading her paths around Gotham before it reached and stayed at a final address. That, and the real digging, he’d save for later.

 

Right now, though he did want to learn more about Spoiler, Tim didn’t feel like she would be up for a team with two supers anytime soon. That would need a more training, and also more trust. He was looking forward to working more with her, but it wasn’t a good idea to bring up a team just yet. He labeled her a tentative ally and possible option in the future, and went back to his original two picks.

 

Superboy, also goes by the Kid, no other alias. Superman’s clone, created by Cadmus labs without Superman’s knowledge or consent. Natural age, nine months, artificially aged to approximately sixteen years old. Currently living in Hawaii, acting as a poster-boy superhero. Made appearances, signed autographs, sold paraphernalia. Good fighting skills, and seemed to share at least a good portion of Superman’s speed, strength, and invulnerability. Able to fly. Other powers as of yet unknown. Cocky and boastful, but obviously intelligent. Glory hound and ladies man who loves the spotlight. Tends to gripe and make noise, but not unwilling to get his hands dirty. Cares about helping people. Known weakness: Kryptonite.

 

Bart Allen, alias Impulse. Born with a unique disease that induced hyper-aging. Grew up in real-world simulation that matched his own personal passage of time. Shocked into normal growth patterns thanks to speedster science. Natural age, three and a half years, subjectively aged to approximately fifteen years old. Currently living with Jay and Joan Garrick, and tentative sidekick to the Flash. Not the best of relationships. Contains the speed force and perceives and lives at a much faster rate than normal humans. Can travel up to speeds as of yet unmeasured, able to run on liquids, can vibrate through things, strong enough to carry a Tim-sized human across continents. Hyperhealing. Loud and, well, impulsive, with the tendency to get easily distracted. Often reckless and has trouble following orders. Known weaknesses: No concept of danger; even though he’s fast, he’s still mortal and all too capable of being seriously injured.

 

They weren’t necessarily the best-sounding choices. Neither had really ever worked with another person consistently, and they weren’t very good at following orders. Their personalities were boisterous and generally considered difficult to deal with.

 

However, they were both _good_ guys and ultimately were heroes because they wanted to do the right thing and help people. And Tim had worked with both of them before, though not regularly, and even with the issues, they’d worked _well_ together. The trust came quickly, and he was sure that with a little more work, they had the makings to become a well oiled machine. Superboy needed someone to reel him in once and a while, Bart needed someone with patience. Tim needed a team he could rely on, who he could count on to have his back. There would probably be a lot of fighting in the beginning, but there was so much _potential_ …

 

Tim was startled out of his musings by the sound of footsteps. He turned to see Jason near one of the punching bags. He smiled in greeting. Jason’s eyes flickered to the screen before he nodded at Tim and turned his attention to his workout.

 

Well, it was time to get ready to leave for school anyway.  Tim saved his progress and closed down the files, leaving the cave to the sound of Jason’s attack on bag.

 

\-----

 

Usually, now, when Tim got home from school, Jason was waiting for him at the kitchen, contentedly munching away at the snack Alfred always left out (the portion had, of late, gotten much bigger), ready to interrogate him on his day. Before Jason, Tim’s habit had been to take the tray up to his room to eat while he got worked on his homework, so that by the time he was done, the snack had digested enough for him to comfortably fit in a work-out. The new habit was to eat in the kitchen with Jason, then go along with whatever activity Jason had gotten into his head for them to do (“You can’t come straight home from school and do more school work!”), and get to his homework a few hours later. It was a little harder to make sure he had enough time for Tim Drake’s work and Robin’s work, but he found he really didn’t mind.

 

Today the snack was out where it normally was, a covered bowl of fruit salad and a plate of cookies. About half the cookies were missing, which led Tim to believe that Jason had already come and gone. He felt a pang of disappointment in the break in routine, but Jason did have his own life, and it was silly to expect him to always be waiting for Tim to come home. He had any number of more important things to do anyway; train, work on projects, continue reacquainting himself with the world he’d missed being a part of. Maybe he was even studying to return to school.

 

That wasn’t a bad idea, especially if he wanted to go into a grade with kids his own age. The school year was almost over, so there was no point in him starting this year, but he’d be a Senior come fall. Maybe…maybe Tim could offer to help him study. They’d have all summer, and Jason was really smart; he’d be able to catch up by then no problem, if he even needed to worry about it at all.

 

Tim got down a tray to put the fruit and remaining cookies on and poured himself a glass of milk to take upstairs too. Well, if Jason wasn’t here, there wasn’t any reason to stay downstairs if he could just go to his room and eat while he got work done.

 

Maybe Jason would be free later, after Tim finished his homework. They could spar or talk or—do whatever Jason wanted to do.

 

\-----

 

Tim had just finished his homework (no sign of Jason) and was heading down to the cave to get some training in, maybe work more on his future-team plan, when he noticed the library door was open. Bruce was still at WE, and Alfred never left doors open, so naturally Tim went over to investigate.

 

Jason was sprawled on Tim’s favorite couch, reading a book that looked pretty battered. Tim couldn’t make out the cover, and he crept closer. Jason had to know he was here, but he didn’t say anything to acknowledge Tim. Maybe he didn’t want to be bothered?

 

Tim stood there in silence for a few minutes and shifted awkwardly. He should…he should just go. He turned to leave when Jason heaved a loud sigh.

 

“Hey,” he said, not looking up.

 

“Hi,” Tim said, swiveling back around. “Um, what are you reading?” Jason held up the cover. Tim blinked.

 

“Frankenstein?”

 

Jason shrugged. “Yeah. Huh, that’s a face. Too highbrow for me?”

 

“No, no!” Tim shook his head. “I just…I never really liked it. The ending.”

 

“What, everyone dying?”

 

“More how things turned out for…um. The monster. And what he did when, um. Things could have. Been different.” Tim looked down, feeling a blush coming on and wouldn’t you know it, that seemed to get Jason’s attention more than anything.

 

“Okay, now this I gotta hear,” Jason said, sitting up and giving Tim his full attention. “That sounds like it’s got _thought_ behind it.”

 

Tim rubbed one arm and shrugged. “It’s nothing really. I read it when I was seven and I didn’t like that M—the monster ended up all alone, and that’s why he did those things. So I, uh, I made up an alternate ending.” He looked at the floor. “It was just something stupid I did as a kid.”

 

Jason raised an eyebrow and looked _interested_. “C’mere,” he said, patting the spot next to him. Tim went over and warily sat down.

 

“What is it?”

 

“What do you think?” Jason crossed his arms and sat back. “Tell me the story.”

 

Tim could _feel_ his face burning. “It’s not—it’s not really—I was a little kid. It’s stupid.”

 

“You named him, didn’t you?”

 

“What?”

 

Jason waved a hand. “You think I didn’t notice the pauses? C’mon, what’d you name him?”

 

Tim stared at his knees. “Michael.”

 

“How come?”

 

“Um. It’s really—” He sighed. “I can’t really explain that without telling you the _story_ , and—”

 

“So _tell_ me.”

 

“It’s stupid!”

 

Jason put an arm around Tim’s shoulder and leaned in, smirking. “I’m gonna go with no way, just on account of how much you’re fighting me on this.”

 

Tim gave up. “I gave him a family, okay? Instead of him being chased out of the first village and going back to exact revenge, I had him meet someone else after the blind man’s family.”

 

“Someone else, huh?”

 

Tim leaned against Jason. It was. It was just something to do. “A boy. He was…he was thirteen in my head. He was using a crutch and struggling to carry, um, firewood, and the monster hid behind the bushes and said he’d carry the wood to the boy’s house if the boy promised not to look at him.”

 

“Yeah?” Jason moved his arm to tuck Tim more snugly against him. “Then what?”

 

“Uh, the boy said that he may not have the use of his leg, but his mind worked and he wasn’t going to lead a thief to his house. And the monster said that, technically, he could just follow the boy anyway and _not_ carry the wood, and the boy got mad about that, but since it was true, he eventually started walking and left the firewood behind.”

 

“And?”

 

“The monster picked up it and carried it. To the boy’s house. It was small, and sort of in bad shape. And the monster said that he’d gladly put the firewood away too, as long as the boy promised not to try to look at him. The boy said fine, and showed him where the woodbin was, made him promise to stay for a minute while he went inside.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“He, um. He came back out with a jar of apple preserves. And put it on top of the woodbin. Then he introduced himself—his name was Eric, and he asked if his helper wouldn’t mind just taking this as payment and not try to break into the house.” Tim stopped. “It’s really not—”

 

“Don’t want to hear it,” Jason said. “Keep going.”

 

So Tim kept talking. He told about how the next day, and for the rest of the week, the monster stayed by the house and made sure the woodbin was full, and left game for Eric and his family, and noticed that he never saw anyone _but_ Eric leave the house, eventually learning that there weren’t any parents, anymore. He told about how Eric started sitting outside in the back and trying to have conversations with the person who didn’t want to be seen and didn’t have a name to give.

 

“Bet that made the kid mad,” Jason murmured.

 

“A little,” Tim said. “He said that if he didn’t have a proper name, Eric was going to _give_ him one.”

 

“And that was…?”

 

“Michael. Right. After—um, the angel. Since, you know, it was that time period.”

 

Jason nodded, Tim able to feel the movement. “Michael, huh?”

 

“Y-yeah.”

 

Jason brought his free hand up to play and tangle with Tim’s fingers. “Tell me the rest of the story.”

 

\-----

 

When Tim, blushing madly, finished telling Jason the rest of his ‘story,’ he was sort of expecting Jason to be pretty antsy and jump at the chance to go train or move or something. Except, when Tim mentioned it, Jason shook his head.

 

“Nah,” he said with an easy grin. “I’m pretty comfortable right now. Let’s call it meditation practice or some shit.” That said, he sat back on the couch and closed his eyes. And, since he still had an arm wrapped around Tim and Tim’s fingers twined with his own, he took Tim with him.

 

Tim swallowed, but it was. It was really nice. And Jason was comfortable and _easy_ to be with, and Tim didn’t have to try to be anyone or anything else, and that was a gift, really. He liked playing with all his different personas, but it was still sometimes a relief to just be Tim. He moved around a little to get more comfortable, and Jason let out a pleased noise when he finally settled, tucked up against Jason’s chest.

 

Then the door banged open.

 

“Tiiiim! I’m here for a surprise vi~sit! It’s been _years_ since I came by, I’ve been neglecting you horribly. I know you’re hard up for some big brother…cuddles…”

 

Dick froze. Gaped. He looked about as dumbstruck as Tim had ever seen him. Tim tried to jump up, but Jason’s arm was an iron band around his shoulders and didn’t let him move. And maybe…maybe Jason needed that support, for this.

 

“Jay?” Dick whispered, after several heavy beats of silence.

 

“Hey, big bird,” Jason said back, smile shaky.

 

Dick blinked several times. Took two quick steps forward. Stopped. Balanced on one foot as he continued to stare. “I—you-- _Jay_?”

 

Jason sighed and let go of Tim to stand himself. “It’s me,” he said. “Bruce ran _all_ the tests. You need proof, I got it for you.”

 

“But I—and you…okay, okay, don’t mind me, I’m just _freaking out_ a little and I—Tim! Tim, it’s _Jason_.”

 

Tim stood up too. “Yeah,” he said, and he didn’t even know what sort of expression was on his own face. “I know, I—”

 

“He came and _got_ me,” Jason said, wrapping an around back around Tim and pulling him close. “Knocked me outta some of the fuck-stupid headspace I was in, too.”

 

Dick laughed. It sounded just a touch hysterical. “That’s you. That’s—that’s definitely your vocab. I—” He can a hand through his hair. Stopped. Switched legs. “But it’s…it’s really you? I mean. It’s really you. You’re…not.”

 

“Dead?” Jason managed a soft smile. “Really not, Dick.”

 

And then Dick was just _there_ , arms flung around Jason and _squeezing_ , hugging Tim too because Jason hadn’t let him go. “Oh my god you’re alive,” Dick said. “You’re alive! I—wait.” He pulled back a few inches, just enough to stare them both in the face. “How long? When? _How_ ? _And how come no one told me_?”

 

“Ah.” Tim shifted. “About a month now.”

 

“And that was my call,” Jason said. “About not telling you. Uh. Wanted to settle in some more before I freaked everyone the fuck out.”

 

Dick pulled away, looked Jason over twice, latched on again. “Who else knows? Are you coming back? What are you _doing_? Wait, wait, how are you doing it?”

 

Jason laughed and pushed at Dick’s shoulder, but not hard enough to really move him away. “Pick a question and stick with it, big bird.”

 

Dick’s hands _convulsed_. “Okay, okay, okay, I—how. Just. Let’s start with that.”

 

Jason heaved a sigh. “Yeah, thought you might. Okay, how about we move for the explanations, huh? I’m not giving you a story that complicated while you’re breathing in my neck.”

 

Dick planted a kiss on Jason’s forehead, squeezed him one more time and pulled back. “Okay, fine, I respect your stupid personal space wishes even with the whole finding out you’re _alive_ and the fact I haven’t _touched_ you since…yes. But I’m cuddling _someone_ damn it. Tim, get over here.”

 

“Um.”

 

That’s how they ended up sitting back in the library, Jason on one of the easy chairs while Dick took up the couch and clung to Tim.

 

They managed to make it down to the cave an hour later, Dick and Jason relearning how to spar each other (relearning each other, period) while Tim watched, watched Jason reclaim another part of the family he belonged in. When Bruce joined them an hour after that and Jason forced him to hash things out with _Dick_ …

 

Tim felt himself smiling as they all went back upstairs for dinner, even with the tension. Jason was _good_ for this family. And Tim, well.

 

He’d never been happier to be a part of it.

 

\-----

 

Jason figured that, since Dick knew now, there wasn’t any point in keeping his resurrection a secret any longer, so that night he went with Dick to make his rounds. He said he was most looking forward to saying hi to Roy and to Kory. For different reasons.

 

Tim and Bruce patrolled together, though halfway through the night Bruce had Tim break off and make his way over to where Spoiler did her usual rounds. They spent the rest of the evening-to-morning together, and Tim followed her when he headed home. Learned enough through her address and channels to put a name and face to the costume.

 

Stephanie Brown. He liked her. He hoped that his new info and a little more digging might endear her to Bruce. Clearly _some_ wheels were already turning, for him to be encouraging the relationship at all.

 

He arrived back at the cave to two blinking messages, one from Superboy, the other from Bart, both saying ‘yes’ to his invitation to meet next weekend. He emailed back the location and didn’t write a thing about the fact that they weren’t just going to be meeting _him_. No reason to get them worked up. Yet.

 

It was a good night. He typed up his report and then shed his uniform, taking a quick shower before sitting down to the light meal Alfred had left out for him. He took his time with it, and found himself thinking about Jason, and hoping that things were going well.

 

He wasn’t waiting up for him. Considering _who_ he was going to meet, chances were Jason was going to be out all night catching up. Possibly being thrown an impromptu welcome back party. Which was good. Jason needed other people to talk to. It would be good for him to be able to get out of the manor, to not just have Tim to talk to.

 

Jason still hadn’t really gone into much detail about his experiences, or even how he’d ended up with Talia. Tim had known about Ra’s al Ghul, about the Lazurus pit, how that lingered with you, but Jason…

 

Tim knew that he wasn’t fine, for all that he’d done his best to act unaffected. There were still the parts of him Tim had met a month ago, the part that played with knives and wanted to cut and slash _deep_ , the angry, angry part that hurt and was hurting. That part had been shocked into silence when forced to watch a small kid in a Robin costume strip and _offer_ , but Tim knew it was still there.

 

He would be ready to listen, when and if Jason was ready to talk. And in the meantime, he’d still be here, be company whenever Jason wanted it. Though he certainly…wasn’t doing that to be self-sacrificing.

 

As he went to his room, Tim made plans for the weekend. How to talk to Superboy and Bart to convince them to listen long enough to realize that they could have a good thing going. And also plans for Stephanie. They mostly exchanged quips while they worked, but Tim sort of figured that she would be the type of person who’d rather he be honest with the fact he’d looked into her. Chances are that she knew by now it came with the Robin job description. And then he could introduce her to Bruce.

 

He rubbed his forehead. Maybe this time she wouldn’t end the conversation with a brick to the face. That had been completely uncalled for. He hadn’t even gotten her mask off when she’d bashed him.

 

\-----

 

The rest of the week went…easily. He and Jason spent less time together then they had been, but Tim was busy with school and projects (and now he was sort of regretting those extra classes), and plans for his new team, and every night he and Spoiler (Stephanie) took Gotham by storm. It didn’t seem like she took things seriously from talking to her, up until you realized _what_ she was saying and how she was saying it. Tim was torn between trying to talk her out of the life, and giving her to Bruce and Dick for some real training.

 

He talked about this with Bruce a few times, and even mentioned it to Jason once, but whenever he brought Stephanie up, Jason closed off a little, loudly, by asking some _really_ personal questions. Tim made sure that he no longer discussed Stephanie when Jason was around. It was a shame; he was pretty positive they’d really hit it off. They were both better at…being people. Social, upbeat, exciting. He was hoping that Jason would be more open about getting to know her once she met with Bruce.

 

Jason, for his part, had made his rounds in the community and was working on how he was going to re-enter the “night” life now that people knew about him. He’d been doing some work on his own…messy stuff, from what Tim gleaned whenever Jason bothered to write up reports, but the community knew Jason, knew that he’d come back via the Lazurus pit, and so Jason knew that he was being watched now. He had to tread carefully. That on top of the fact he was getting ready for the ‘big surprise’ Bruce Wayne was having next week, well, that made Jason pretty busy too.

 

Tim was happy that he was happy, that Bruce was happy, that everything was _better_.

 

But he could admit that he missed the times when he had Jason’s full attention. Before, Jason had sought him out. Now, even when they were both at home, they only interacted when they crossed paths.

 

Tim wondered if maybe Jason didn’t need him anymore. Or…not _need_ , he’d never _needed_ Tim, but perhaps he’d been using Tim as sort of a grounding rod as he worked his way back into his life. Now that things were settled, there wasn’t any reason to keep the…security blanket, so to speak.

 

Or…Tim felt himself seize. What if he’d managed to do something wrong?

 

The more he turned the thought over in his mind, the more he worried about it. Jason had seemed to want to spend time with him, and then all of a sudden he was…really busy. Jason being “busy” could easily be explained as Jason was avoiding him. And if it was something so bad that _Jason_ didn’t want to talk about it, then…

 

Well. Well, Tim would have to ask.

 

And if he was just jumping to stupid conclusions, then at worse they’d just have a conversation and things would go back to the current normal. Right.

 

He knew Jason was working out in the cave. He and Bruce had had another _discussion_ about some of Jason’s nighttime activities. And the fact that some child-dealing pimps no longer would ever have use of their arms. Or genitalia.

 

As always when Jason shadow sparred, Tim had to stop for a moment to just watch him move. He was pure whirling _power_ , and Tim could tell from the way he spun out of certain hits that the force was dangerous levels of real. Jason was upset.

 

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

 

“Yeah?” Jason growled. “ _What?_ ”

 

In for a penny… “I—could I talk to you?”

 

Jason glanced in his direction and growled before twisting to another two ‘opponents.’ One had a broken knee, the other…

 

Probably a crushed larynx.

 

“I can. Come back, if you’re busy.”

 

Jason shook his head. “Nah, go ahead. I’ll just be dealing with these _child-fuckers_ over here, you go ahead and _talk_.”

 

Okay, definitely a bad time. “Sorry, never mind, I’ll—”

 

“ _Talk_.” And that was an order, and Jason’s eyes were flashing wild, when Tim could catch them, and maybe Jason just needed…grounding? Okay, he could talk. He could definitely talk.

 

“I just wanted to know if I’d done something to make you mad,” Tim said in a rush. “But not because you’re spending less time with me! Or anything. I just…it seems like you might be avoiding me? Maybe? And if I _have_ done something wrong, I’d, you know, like to know how I can fix it. That’s all.”

 

Jason barked a laugh and sounded…he sounded like he had when he and Tim had first met.

 

“Wrong?” Another bark of laughter. “Oh no, not like you could do anything wrong. Not you, the perfect, dedicated little Robin. Fuck no. Not a _thing_.”

 

Tim flinched. “Jason, I—”

 

“No, nothing. I—” a grunt as Jason…shattered an attacker’s sternum. “I’m just the fuck-up who got himself blown to bits and still can’t convince his _dad_ that some bastards should _be_ in the dirt as worm food, that’s all. Same guy I thought maybe was gonna do that to me until I learned better, one of the lucky ones who _could._ Am I asking for the Joker’s head on a platter anymore? No. And I didn’t even fucking _expect_ it, cause I could do it _myself_ with the training I got, the training that makes that kind of thing _reflex_ , all cold blood and impassive eyes and _fuck_ if I maybe want to use that against _scum_ who think it’s okay to make a kid’s life just that…much… _worse_.” His knives were out now, and each of Jason words punctuated someone getting brutally, messily stabbed.

 

Tim swallowed. “Jason, try to…calm down. Just a little, there are—we can—”

 

“What?” Jason snarled, still not looking at him, maybe not even _seeing_ him, not hearing him either, someone else’s voice and words coming from where Tim’s body was standing. “Oh yeah, there’s shit we can do. Get them _off_ the street and _not_ into a court where a fucking trial will get em off scot-free if the only evidence is a little boy or girl who’s too scared or broken or _missing_ to talk.”

 

“Jason—”

 

“Shut _up_!” And the knives flew.

 

Tim was able to twist out of the way of one, but Jason was stronger, he was faster, and he was _better_ , and there was nothing but a t-shirt to protect, no collar, no armor, no cape.

 

Tim dodged the knife aimed at his heart, spun against a _deadly_ blow, and caught the other on the side of his throat.

 

Jason…Jason had…really good aim.

 

He felt himself sink slowly to the ground, fighting to keep his head up so he couldn’t choke on his own blood. He distantly heard a _scream_ and then arms were around him, holding him up, supporting his head which was nice because…because…

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck _no_ , Tim, Tim no, don’t you _dare_ , c’mon, c’mon, stay with me, Tim _fuck_ I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I— _Tim_ ”

 

Tim could hear one of the panic buttons going off, Jason screaming for someone in between talking to him, pounding footsteps as things went fuzzy…

 

Black.

 

**\-----**

 

“—think I _know_ that?! I’m not-he’s not—”

 

“Not the same, they’re—”

 

_beep_

 

“Please listen, feel how _this_ hurts—”

 

“—out! Get out get out get OU—”

 

_beep_

 

“I get it, okay? I—fuck, I _get_ it. But you have to hear _me_ too, even if—”

 

“—promise I will try.”

 

_beep_

 

“Don’t you dare die on me, you bastard, don’t you _dare_.”

 

_Why…_

 

“I can’t believe I—I fuck up _everything_.”

 

_Why is…_

 

“Fuck, Tim, Tim, _please_ —”

 

_Why is Jason…_

 

“Please be okay.”

 

_crying?_

 

\-----

 

Jason didn’t leave the batcave. He sat by Tim’s gurney and clutched at his hand and stared at his pale face and the bandaged neck and didn’t move.

 

He’d talked with Bruce. Explanations and sobbed apologies and broken discussion.

 

He had a new perspective, now. So did Bruce. On killing, and who deserved it and how and why and

 

He might have killed Robin. _He might have killed Robin_ and that—

 

Jason couldn’t—

 

It wasn’t a fucking crowbar beating and it wasn’t an apathetic bomb, it wasn’t a stupid _bullet_

 

It was a fucking

 

knife

 

to the  _throat_.

 

Jason knew that the Pit had left him twisted. Something not quite _right_ , and he’d beat it down and beat it down, and _worked_ on that anger and okay, so maybe he was a little rougher in the streets, a little tougher on Bruce, maybe he yelled more about the _wrong_ kinds of arguments but he never meant…he never…

 

Fuck intentions. It still happened.

 

He still—

 

_Tim_.

 

“Don’t do this to us, kid,” Jason murmured again, blinking away the sleep he was refusing until Tim. Opened. His _eyes_ . “C’mon, c’mon, you know you can’t. You may have replaced me, but no one can replace you. I know that, Bruce knows, that, Dick is _freaked_ and even more so because I’m the one who fucking did it, can’t look at me even when he checks on you and I damn well don’t blame him.”

 

Jason closed his eyes for just a second. “C’mon, baby bird. you’ve—you’ve gotta write your story down, you’ve gotta write out how that kid convinced Michael that he wasn’t a monster, and that he deserved a family—”

 

He swallowed and looked down at Tim again, the hand he was holding, his fingers curled with Tim’s, stared at the bandage, the IV drip, the _blood_ drip…

 

“Please, Tim, I—you went on and on about how Bruce needed a Jason and Batman needed a Robin. Well he still _needs_ a Robin and you’re it, but I—I need _you_ , I need a _Tim_.”

 

\-----

 

Alfred brought him meals. Stood pointedly until Jason ate them.

 

He forced Jason into the cave’s showers, gave him a new set of clothes to wear for after.

 

Bruce came and went and monitored. Jason covered everything when he was gone. He didn’t blame Bruce for leaving; he still had a _life_. But to the world, Jason was still dead, so he could spend his time here.

 

He’d still be dead to _Bruce_ if Tim hadn’t—

 

He’d still be dead to _himself_ if Tim hadn’t—

 

Dick was in again that morning, probably morning (probably morning, wasn’t like he was seeing the sun, but Alfred had brought breakfast and Dick didn’t look _quite_ as worn), and Jason couldn’t bring himself to leave Tim alone, even when he could _feel_ Dick’s horror and dismay. Dick thought he was dangerous

 

_He’s right_

 

Probably that he shouldn’t be trying to rejoin the vigis, shouldn’t be _here_ , didn’t deserve to be here with Tim, that’s for sure

 

_He’s right_

 

Jason had to let go of Tim’s hand in order to clench his own hands into fists. He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t _be_ here, fucking everything up, bringing everyone down with him—

 

He stood up and stumbled over to the mats. If he exhausted himself, at least he’d be too tired to be anything but _safe_.

 

And then he’d go back and sit with Tim and wait for him to wake up.

 

\-----

 

That afternoon, Bruce sent a message to the super-clone and speedster postponing the meeting.

 

That evening, Spoiler tracked Batman down and demanded to know what happened to Robin; they’d been working together every night for a week and then suddenly he disappeared completely.

 

Batman said he’d been injured and would resume his field duties when he was ready again.

 

Barbara kept sending messages through to the main console. Jason mostly ignored them.

 

He took breaks to do what Alfred told him to do and eat what Alfred put in front of him, and to tape his hands and ankles to just _hit_ things until the rage died down, and then he’d go back to Tim. Sat there with his head in his hands and not be able to look at what he _did_.

 

When he couldn’t stay awake anymore, Jason grabbed a sheet off another gurney and walked back to the mats. Curled up there and took a nap.

 

He dreamt of crowbars and explosions. A grave and a pit, guns and knives, the faces of every single low-life he’d wanted to off because the world would be better _without_ them.

 

Of another grave, a smaller one, filled with feathers, a skeleton picked clean

 

Blood, blood, blood, blood, _blood_ on his hands, because he was too cold, too twisted, too wrong, too dirty

 

_Street urchin to_

 

_Whore to_

 

_Charity case to_

 

_Rash to_

 

_Worm-food to_

 

_Second chance to_

 

_Murderer._

 

Digging himself out of a grave, dirt closing in, closing in, _he was going to suffocate,_ falling into a pool of water like tar, reaching out for him and pulling him _down_ , into madness, into anger, into _impassive killer in cold blood, see how easy it was, how easy to throw the knives, to kill just one, and just one who might not have deserved it but who was in your way to killing those who_ **_did_ **

 

_It could be worth it, in the bigger picture. When bad people have to die, good people might get in the way.  Sacrifices must be made._

 

_Don’t mourn the loss, mourning makes you weak, makes you aware of the blood on your hands, implies that you were wrong for what you did_

 

_Only_ **_special_ ** _people can survive a dip in the Pit_

 

_You were ready to do it when you first met him, ready to stick a knife in him then_

 

_Before you saw him be brave, be smart, be strong, be scared and nervous and hurt and willing, before he watched movies with you, ate weird pizza with you, told you stories, made you smile_

 

_Before he made you_ **_better_ **

 

_Sacrifices must be made._

 

Jason gasped awake. Clenched his eyes shut, an image of Tim bleeding _out_ , forced them open again.

 

The sheet was soaked with sweat. He wadded it up and tossed it into a hamper. Gulped a glass of the juice Alfred had left. Rubbed a hand over his face and just looked around the cave, remembering what he had _had_ in it.

 

He went back over to Tim. Sat down in the chair next to the gurney.

 

And waited for him.

 

\-----

 

The first thing Tim became aware of when he swam to consciousness was that his mouth was unbearably dry. The second was that his throat hurt. A lot. And that he was sore like he hadn’t _moved_ for too long.

 

After a few tries, he managed to blink his eyes open. The cave ceiling. Okay. And he was lying on a gurney. All right. A slow glance to both sides revealed the IVs in his arms, the machines he was hooked up to.

 

He tried to sit up, going carefully and wincing for the pain in his neck; it was hard to support his head. It took a minute for the room to refocus, but it did eventually. Jason was over by the mats, fighting livid, more furious than he had been _before_ , though his movements were more contained, more…

 

Oh.

 

Right. He’d…

 

Tim touched a hand to his throat. Bandages. And a blood drip and Jason was wearing different _clothes_ …

 

How long had he been _out_?

 

“Ja—” he started to croak, then coughed. His mouth was really, really dry. Jason swung around, eyes wide and manic.

 

“Tim!” He bolted over to the gurney and just hovered there, reaching out to touch him and then pulling away. “Oh thank god, oh fuck, oh god, you’re alive, you’re okay, I—what do you need? Shit, wait, don’t talk, don’t say a thing, hang on.” He ran over to a side table and grabbed a glass off of it, snatched a straw from somewhere else.

 

“Here,” he said, holding it out to Tim. “Drink _slow_. And not too much.”

 

“Thank—”

 

“Don’t thank me, okay? Just—shit, I—don’t talk. I—Drink.”

 

Jason only let go of the glass once Tim was able to hold it steady in his hands, and he watched avidly as Tim brought the straw up to his mouth and sipped carefully. It hurt, and he could feel every pull as he swallowed, but the liquid was welcome. His insides felt less like they were coated with dust, anyway.

 

He took a few more careful sips and then put it down on the tray attached to the side of the gurney.

 

“You okay?” Jason said in a rush, before Tim could open his mouth. “Fuck, no, of course you’re not, shit shit shit, Bruce is out, he’s at work, Dick isn’t due back till evening—I’ve gotta let them know you’re okay, lemme buzz Alfred, get him down here so you’re not alone with me—”

 

“Ja—”

 

“Don’t _talk_ , damn it. You need to rest your chords. I missed em _barely_ and I don’t want to take _chances_ , not with the rest of your throat fucking _slit_ , I—” He walked around the side and pressed a button, presumably to summon Alfred, talking the whole time. “You’re on a cocktail of pain meds and vitamins and stuff, I’ve got the rundown for you if you want it, but you’re going to be on full rest for at least another day or two, though Bruce might decide to stop pumping it into you now that you’re awake where _is_ he?”

 

“Ja—”

 

“What did I say! I’ll get you a fucking _notebook_ or something, hang on, hang on, just let me…” Jason made to touch Tim and snatched his hand back, before turning around to head to the consol, grabbing a blank notebook from underneath and snagging a pen off the desk. “Here,” he said, thrusting the items at Tim. “And don’t you dare strain yourself just because you wanna have a long conversation. You can save that till _after_ you’re better.”

 

“Thank—”

 

“Don’t fucking thank me! And what did I just say about talking!” Jason glared at Tim and then let out a breath, sagging into the chair next to the gurney as if deflating. “Fuck, don’t listen to me,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “Just…” He didn’t look up. “I’m glad you’re okay, kid.”

 

Tim tapped him lightly on the head with the notebook, holding the page open when Jason finally glanced up.

 

_How long has it been?_

 

“Three fucking days,” Jason said. Tim’s eyes widened in alarm. Three _days_ ? But he’d—what about—there were things he was supposed to have _done_

 

“Whoa, whoa, calm down, calm down, okay? Please? Shit, I know, I’m sorry, Tim, calm down, you’ve gotta…” Jason was looking at him with pure, wide-eyed concern and Tim was struck with the _need_ to know what drugs he was on, because this wasn’t _happening_.

 

He focused on breathing. Scribbled in the notebook.

 

_Did Bruce handle my projects?_

 

Jason frowned. “Projects? Oh, you mean the team stuff? Yeah. Yeah, he—he emailed your buddies. Postponed the meet-up. Got yelled at by your girlfriend too, so that got taken care of also.”

 

Tim blinked. Wrote.

 

_Girlfriend_?

 

“That—that Stephanie chick,” Jason said, waving a hand. “She tracked Bruce down and everything, demanded to know where he’d hidden your body.” He smiled as he said it, but sobered immediately. “I mean. Yeah. She. Yeah. She’s not bad. Bruce doesn’t mind her, I don’t think. Think he plans on taking her to the cave eventually.”

 

Tim nodded. That was good. All of it. Okay, so he hadn’t missed much. And he’d be able to meet with Bart and Superboy later, Bruce liked Stephanie…That was. That was good.

 

_What were my damages?_

 

Jason blanched, his eyes widening before shuttering completely. “Slit throat,” he mumbled. “Clean cut. Nearly severed—slit throat. There’ll be scarring. Lot of blood loss. But you should. You should be fine. Now that you’re awake. I wasn’t—“ he growled and slammed a fist down on the gurney, barely missing Tim’s hands. Tim didn’t flinch, but Jason did, shuddering and yanking his hands away.

 

“And fuck it if I still don’t have any control,” he hissed. “I’ve gotta—you’re okay. You’re okay. Okay.” He breathed. “I’m gonna just. Alfred should be down soon, or Bruce should get here, you’re _fine_ , I’m just gonna go to the mats. Need to calm the fuck down, tire out a little” _keep myself away from you_ “You need anything, just yell.” A pause. “Fuck no, don’t _listen_ to me, hang on, I’ll—” Jason stood up and went to get one of the buzzers. Or tried to. Tim had grabbed onto his sleeve, frowning hard.

 

“ _Jason,_ ” he said. “Sit down, okay?”

 

“I told you not to _talk_!”

 

“I’m _fine_ ,” he said softly but still stern. “I don’t even feel a strain. Barely missing them means you _missed_. Give me some credit too, huh? I’ll regulate my voice, but I don’t need to be mute.” He tugged on Jason’s sleeve. “Sit down?”

 

Jason sat.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Don’t. Don’t thank me.”

 

“It’s common _courtesy_ , Jason, honestly!”

 

“Common courtesy can be saved for people who haven’t tried to _kill you_ , damn it!”

 

Tim blinked and frowned. “You tried to kill me? _When_?”

 

Jason reared back.  Was something wrong with Tim’s memory? He hadn’t _hit_ something that could do that but…trauma triggers? “Uh. So remember maybe that whole thing where I threw knives at you and stabbed you in the neck? Tim?”

 

“Oh. That.” Tim waved the hand that had the blood drip in it. “Please. That doesn’t count.”

 

“Doesn’t—” Jason sputtered. “Are you _high_?”

 

“Possibly,” Tim replied. “Drug cocktail and all. But I don’t think that’s inhibiting my ability to collect data or make decisions. I’ve been trained for that.”

 

Jason…took a moment to just look at Tim being awake and not dead and breathe.

 

“Okay,” he said, holding up his hands. “Explain. Please.”

 

“Explain what?”

 

“This new thing where knifing someone in the throat doesn’t equal attempted murder.”

 

“Attempted murder requires intent,” Tim said, reaching to pat Jason on the arm. “You responded to a threat with a conditioned reflex. It’s my own fault for pushing you when you were in that state of mind. I—”

 

“No. Fucking— _no_ , bird boy, that _doesn’t work_.” Jason pulled his arm back. “How can you—how can you even _think_ this was your fault! Who _taught_ _you this_.” He wanted to _hurt_ whoever had been a part of Tim’s past. Hurt _badly_.

 

_Blood rushing in his veins and pounding in his ears as it spilled from their bodies_

 

_As he stared into their terrified faces_

 

_As he bathed in the pool of their years run dry and was reborn to kill again and again and again—_

 

Jason threw himself away from Tim’s gurney and ran, nearly knocking Alfred over in his haste to _get away_.

 

\-----

 

Once it was determined that Tim was out of the danger stage, he was moved back to his room for some good, old-fashioned rest. It took him the better part of a week to start feeling normal again, for his blood supply to rebuild and banish the lethargy.

 

He was out on the streets and working again soon enough, and he was much happier for it. Being in bed all day just gave him more time to _think_. And more time to miss Jason.

 

Who’d left.

 

“C’mon boy wonder, wake up. You’ve been like this all night. Wha’cha brooding about?”

 

Tim let out a breath. “Nothing, Spoiler, I just—”

 

Stephanie poked him in the cheek. “Psh _yeah_ , I’ll believe that. Just like I believed Batman was telling the truth about you ‘taking ill’ or whatever.” She kicked her feet out over the vast empty nothing of the ledge they were both sitting on. “I mean it. You disappear for days and come back…all _sad_. What’s the matter?”

 

Tim shrugged. “I’m. Missing someone. That’s all.”

 

“Wait, wait, wait. Missing how? Like, like they’re away on vacation? Or…kidnapped? Or—hey, do you guys _get_ kidnapped?”

 

He let out a laugh despite himself. “You have _no_ idea. The first Robin? He even had a nickname about it. The Boy Hostage.”

 

“Pfftthahahaha! What _seriously_ ? That’s _horrible_!” Stephanie coughed a couple of times to control her laughter. “But subject change, and don’t think I didn’t catch it. Who’s missing? And, uh, are they missing in a way that can, like, be, um, fixed?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Robin, _work_ with me here.”

 

“I don’t know if it can be fixed at this point,” Tim said, “Because at the moment, the person doesn’t want to be found. For a _stupid_ reason, but I’m stuck on how to get that point _across_.”

 

“What’d the guy do?”

 

“Injured me. Entirely on accident, with no malice intended, and partially due to my own meddling.”

 

“Oh. Huh.” Stephanie kicked her legs in silence for a moment. “For argument’s sake, how much injury are we talking about, here?”

 

“It’s why I’ve been out of commission for the last week and a half,” Tim said.

 

A long pause.

 

“Uh. Wait, wait. Hold on.” She waved her hands. “You’re saying, basically, that this person you’re missing hurt you enough to keep you grounded for over a week. But it wasn’t _their_ fault that you got hurt. And you still miss them.”

 

It…sounded a lot worse when Stephanie said it out loud like that. “It’s complicated?” Tim tried. Stephanie didn’t say anything. Tim got the feeling she was giving him a _look_ under her mask.

 

“Robin, look, I…” she put a hand on his shoulder. “You know about my dad. I _know_ you know about my dad, because you work for the freaking Batman.” Tim nodded.

 

“So. Uh. You. You pretty much have to realize how your situation _sounds_.”

 

Tim rubbed a hand across his face. “Spoiler, I’m not in an abusive relationship.” She crossed her arms at him. “I promise! Ste-Spoiler, I think I’d _know_.”

 

“That it was abuse?” she said, arms still crossed.

 

“That it was a relationship,” Tim told her, making sure she could _hear_ him rolling his eyes. “Look, it’s Bat business, so I can’t give you details, but I can give the gist. You’re not the only new person I’ve met. I made friends with another vigilante a couple of months ago. Rough past, and certain subjects are touchy. You know how that is.” She nodded.

 

“So one of the subjects got touched. And I made a mistake and _yes it was partially my fault_ and approached when things got more volatile. I stepped into the line of fire, as it were. I’m pretty sure that, by the time I interfered, it wasn’t really _me_ who was being attacked. Everyone is haunted by phantoms. You can’t—poke a wolf with a stick and then get mad when it bites you.”

 

Stephanie sighed loudly, but uncrossed her arms and leaned back against the wall of the building. “Okay, okay, I hear you. So your friend hightailed it away from you after hurting you, probably ‘cause of guilt.”

 

“Bingo.”

 

“But…you’ve gotta know where the guy _is_. Isn’t that, like, part of your job?”

 

“I do,” Tim said.  “But I don’t really want to…push.”

 

Stephanie poked him in the chest. “That’s really _stupid_ , boy wonder.”

 

“What?”

 

“If your friend left because of guilt and knows you know where he’s hiding, and he’s _gotta_ know you know, if you know each other, then you staying quiet just makes him feel like he made the right _choice_ . And _ow_ ,” she shook her right hand. “How much armor do you have _on_?”

 

“It’s bulletproof, so I think the answer is, ‘a lot’,” Tim said. He frowned, thinking it over. Would Jason work that way? He and Stephanie had pretty similar personalities, and shared a lot of the same thought patterns. “Is that how you would take my…staying quiet, if it were you?”

 

“Uh, _yeah_.”

 

Tim nodded. It made sense. And, well, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d have to go after Jason and convince him to come _home_. “I guess I just needed someone to point it out,” he said ruefully.

 

“And it was me. Cause I’m awesome,” Stephanie said, pushing to her feet. “So if you’re done being a broody-tights and have a plan of action and stuff now, think we can get back to making criminals quake in fear?”

 

Tim’s mouth quirked as he stood. “After you.”

 

\-----

 

Jason got back to his studio somewhere around three in the morning. He didn’t bother flipping any of the lights, since his plan was pretty much _sleep immediately_. Shrugging out of his jacket and letting it drop over a chair, he stepped over to the couch and flopped down.

 

And immediately moved, pinning the intruder down, one hand finding a throat while the other pulled out a knife.

 

“Identify yourself _now_ ,” he growled, as he forced his eyes to adjust to the dark.

 

Then he froze, as his thumb found a thick scar, and he realized whom he was pinning underneath him.

 

“Fucking— _Tim_?”

 

“Hi, Jason.”

 

Jason swallowed and moved out of the hold, letting his knife fall to the floor.

 

“What are you doing here, kid,” he asked, sitting up so he could reach over and flick on the lamp. It was a cheap lamp and a weak bulb, but at least the room was now lit, if dimly.

 

“I was waiting for you,” Tim said, sitting up too. “I got off of patrol over an hour ago and came here.”

 

“ _Why_?”

 

In reply, Tim slid off the couch completely. He pulled off the R shiruken with his right hand, removing his belt with his left, and lay them both down next to Jason’s fallen knife.

 

“ Kid…”

 

“I brought you home once,” Tim said, removing his cape and letting it fall down behind him with a _thump_. “I’m going to do it again.”

 

“What, to give me another chance to finish you off? Don’t fucking think so!”

 

“You were fresher from the pit when I found you the first time,” Tim said calmly, cracking open his body armor and shedding it. “I wasn’t worried then, and I’m not worried now.

 

“Kid, _Tim_ , would you _listen_ to me? You kinda should _be_ worried, okay? I’m _not_ safe, I’m _not_ to be trusted, and I’m _not_ about to let you get any further.” Jason grabbed Tim’s wrists, holding them in place; about to remove Robin’s mask.

 

“Leave your mask on, kid. Put your stuff back on. Go home. I’m not in it, anymore.”

 

“ _No_.” Tim twisted a wrist out of Jason’s grip and wrenched off his mask. He stared down at Jason, blue eyes fierce and calm. “I’m not letting you run away. You already left once. I’m not letting you do it again. Especially not when you’re doing it for the wrong reasons.”

 

“I knifed you in the throat! I could have killed you! I almost did! _And I keep_ —“ Jason snapped his mouth shut and averted his eyes, releasing Tim’s other wrist. The silence in the room stretched, heavy between them.

 

“I’m too angry,” Jason gritted out, at last. “I’m too angry, too much of the time. And I don’t want to hurt you again.”

 

“You won’t,” Tim said.

 

“ _don’t know that!_ ” Jason roared, leaping up. He towered over Tim, dwarfed him, and he curled his hands into fists to keep them from finding their way to Tim’s shoulders.

 

“I do,” Tim said, looking up at him. “You won’t.”

 

He was just calmly standing there, in nothing but a T-shirt and the tights. He’d stripped down the same way when they’d first met. Then, it was to show that he would make himself defenseless if that’s what Jason needed. Now it was to prove that even without the amour, he believed himself protected where Jason was concerned.

 

“You won’t hurt me again,” Tim repeated.

 

Jason collapsed back on the couch, the fight gone out of him, leaving only weariness. “I wish I could be as sure as you were.” His eyes flickered to Tim’s throat, seeking out the harsh line of the scar against pale skin. “But you’re wrong. I’ll say it again; leave it. Go home, be Robin, spend time with your girl and your new team.”

 

Tim glared, expression twisting. And then he _leapt_.

 

The first strike connected with Jason’s jaw, just due to his surprise, but he blocked the next attack so it glanced off his shoulder, flipped over the back of the couch to dodge the third. Tim was going _at_ him, and the fierceness, the _seriousness_ that rolled off him in waves told Jason that this wasn’t just an impromptu spar. There was intent here, and there was _threat_ , and Tim wanted both of those things known.

 

He blocked another kick to his head, coming in for an uppercut that caught Tim in the stomach, sending him backward a step or two before he regained his momentum and dropped, sweeping a kick under Jason’s legs that the larger man jumped over.

 

The fight continued around the room, Tim coming at him with everything but weapons he no longer had, and Jason doing his best to defend and not counter attack. It was difficult; Tim’s aura was screaming ‘threat’ and it was all Jason could to do squash both his assassin training and the Pit’s whispers.

 

He finally managed to back Tim into a corner position, hoping to pin him and end the fight. This was too serious for words, and he wanted to know _why_. Tim, realizing his position, groped for a way out and fought dirty to do it. He went for Jason’s knees, forced him back, then threw himself across the room toward the couch, grabbing for the R shiruken.

 

Jason had his knives out before he even realized it freezing mid-throw, to _not release, don’t hurt him, can’t hurt him, not that, not that, not that_ Tim’s face blurred into someone else’s, a murderer, a child fucker, _someone who deserved to die,_ **_needed_ ** _to die_

 

He threw his knives.

 

They embedded themselves in the wall behind the couch, exactly where he’d aimed them, aimed them to get the threat of them out of his hands.

 

Breathing hard, Jason sunk down to the floor, hands clenched and eyes wild. He heard the sound of movement and them Tim was there, curling his arms around him. Jason could feel him panting too; feel the sweat from his face where it was tucked against Jason’s neck.

 

“I know you won’t hurt me,” Tim murmured. “Because I know you won’t let yourself. You know how much it hurts, how much you hate it. That’s enough to beat your anger, in the end. And I’ll fight you until you beat it.”

 

Jason let out a cracked laugh and pulled Tim closer. “You’re almost crazier than me, baby bird,” he breathed, voice hitching.

 

“Then we’re perfect for each other,” Tim replied, holding on just as tight.

 

\-----

 

There was a near-audible tension that lasted through Tim re-suiting up, the two of them heading back to the cave, Tim changing into civilian clothes, and the walk upstairs to the manor.

 

It was strangely deserted; Bruce out, or asleep, or, most likely, simply making himself scarce. Alfred too, was missing, though the tray of still-warm food in Tim’s room meant that he had certainly been up at least recently.

 

Tim had refused to let Jason hide in his own room, so he was standing in Tim’s room, feeling awkward and out of place, while the younger teen pulled back his covers and then flopped down.

 

“Well?” Tim said, after a moment.

 

“Well what,” Jason said, eyeing the bed. His fingers were itching and he couldn’t tell if it was nerves or because he wanted them wrapped around something.

 

“Get _in_ ,” Tim said, lifting his head just long enough so that Jason could see his expression. “You’re not standing there all night.”

 

“Fuck no,” Jason said immediately. “If I’m not allowed to go to my room, I’m fucking staying right here in this corner.”

 

“And what good will come of that,” Tim asked, sounding frustrated.

 

“What good will come of—how about me not strangling you in your sleep? Or _my_ sleep.” He shook his head and met Tim’s eyes. “That’s what you’re not getting about this, Tim. I’m screwed up. At this point? I can’t guarantee I won’t hurt anybody, if I really want to. I can’t. I don’t know where my head is at, and that means my dreams’ll be even worse. You may trust me, but _I_ don’t trust me. Ultimately, that’s what matters.”

 

“I’ll wake up if you try to attack me,” Tim said. “Bruce trained me, remember? I can sense intention in my sleep.”

 

“Yeah, and he trained me _too_. And on top of that, I have lessons from assassins.”

 

“So do I,” Tim replied. “If you try to attack me, I’ll wake up. And you’d have to be trying _really_ hard to kill me with your bare hands for me to not be able to get a nerve strike in.” He curled up under the covers. “Get in. The bed’s huge; we won’t even have to touch.”

 

Jason swallowed. That much was true; the bed was big and Tim was small. They’d fit with room to spare. If he made a move to go after Tim, there wasn’t a lot he could do bare-handed that Tim wouldn’t at least be able to defend against. And if that happened, it hopefully wouldn’t take that long for him to snap back into his senses.

 

“Jason, I’m getting cold.”

 

“So put the covers back properly, sheesh.” He was exhausted, guilt running high, and…a part of him maybe wanted to know that Tim really was this okay. “I’ll be there in a second.”

 

He stripped down to his undershirt and boxers and then climbed into the bed alongside Tim. It was stupid how easily the bed accommodated them both. Forget tight fit; they could fit two more people in with them.

 

Tim smiled, and then reached over to turn off the lamp. “Good night, Jason.”

 

“…‘night, Tim.”

 

\-----

 

Jason woke up thrashing three times, and his first instinct was always to glance over, make sure Tim was okay. Tim who was curled on his stomach at the far edge of the bed and awake, waiting.

 

For Jason?

 

They were bad dreams, fighting dreams, but just dreams. Nothing more than that. Tim was all right. Things were okay.

 

Each time, when he was sure he was awake, the panting dwindling to normal breathing again, Jason reached out to gently tap Tim’s outstretched hand. Tim always curled his fingers around Jason’s for a moment, before Jason slipped his hand away and tried to fall asleep again.

 

\-----

 

Tim woke up to the feeling of someone big and looming right next to his bed, and the warmth of someone big and tense lying next to him _on_ the bed.

 

He grumbled and cracked open an eye to see Bruce and Jason staring at each other silently. Both of them looked upset and…slightly ashamed. It was enough for him to roll over to glare at them.

 

“This couldn’t have waited until _morning_? Or afternoon. Afternoon would be better, really.”

 

“He was trained by assassins, Tim.”

 

Tim snorted. “Everyone here was.”

 

“I—”

 

“Bruce.” Tim sat up. “I’m not dead. He did not kill me. He never _tried_ to kill _me_.”

 

Bruce glanced uncertainly between the both of them, face blank but eyes pained. “If he’s that unstable—”

 

“He’s right here, Bruce! And you’ll notice that the both of us are fine. Even after I goaded him into a fight with weapons and slept next to him unarmed. Both things I know you know.”

 

“Look,” Jason said, holding up a hand. “I get it, okay? I don’t trust me either. Why do you think I _left_? Blame him.” He jerked a thumb in Tim’s direction. “It was either this or…what, exactly, was my option, kid?”

 

“You’ll call me _Tim_ ,” Tim said. “And you didn’t have one.”

 

“There you go,” Jason said, looking back at Bruce. “I was tired, I didn’t want another argument, and I’m pretty damned sure he would have tried to fight me all night if I hadn’t given in. Sue me, I wanted some sleep.”

 

“In his bed?” Bruce asked, a single eyebrow twitching.

 

“My! Idea!”

 

“Would you explain why?”

 

“Yeah.” Jason crossed his arms. “Wouldn’t mind an explanation on that myself. _Tim_.”

 

Tim scowled. “It was the best place I could think to put you that wouldn’t result in you running off the moment my back was turned. If you had tried to leave, I would have woken up. And gone after you. You’re free to go back to sleeping in your own room when you stop being a flight risk.”

 

Jason rubbed his chin and looked sideways at Bruce. “I think he’s trumped the both of us, B. Looks like he’s calling all the shots.”

 

“Stop it.” The scowl deepened. “You can make fun of me when the two of you stop being _ridiculous_ . I’m _sick_ of you tip-toeing around each other, and now me too, and if you wanted to be that sort of family that never talks and-and doesn’t want me to be a part of it, then say so and you can _both_ leave and I’ll go back to _sleep_.” He glared just to the right of Bruce’s chest.

 

Bruce sighed. “Jason,” he said. “The three of us will sit down for a long talk later.”

 

“Fine,” Jason said. “I know we need it. “Go ‘way.”

 

“Goodnight,” Bruce said, with a nod. “Sleep well s…the both of you.”

 

Tim flopped back down as soon as the door shut, curling onto his side, his back to Jason.

 

“Hey,” Jason said quietly.

 

“Mmph.”

 

“Look. I get you’re frustrated. I’m sorry.”  Tim shrugged.

 

“I just remember when you were happy,” he eventually said, voice quiet. “If you can’t be happy again, I want you to at least stop actively _trying_ not to be.”

 

Jason let out a sigh and rested a hand on Tim’s back. “Look, I—” He stopped talking when he felt how still Tim was under his fingers.

 

“…Tim?”

 

“What?”

 

_that sort of family that never talks and-and doesn’t want me to be a part of it_

 

He switched rails. “You really just wanted to share a bed because I was a flight risk?” Just a hint of a smirk in the question.

 

That got Tim to look over his shoulder at him. Jason could just barely make out the creased forehead. “What, you think there’d be another reason?”

 

“Oh, ouch. That hurts, kid. That wounds my manly pride.”

 

“ _Tim_. And what are you talking about?”

 

In answer, Jason reached out, wrapped his arms around Tim and pulled him close, chest to back. Tim froze immediately, the tension in his muscles screaming that he was fighting the urge not to struggle.”

 

“…Did you just turn into Dick, or what?”

 

Jason tightened his arms, tucked his chin over Tim’s shoulder, and didn’t answer.

 

“Jason. The whole point was that we could keep distance. You lash out in your sleep again, I’m not exactly in the best of positions here. Aside from the fact that I don’t need you or Bruce moping if you hit me in your sleep, I don’t really want to wake up with a black eye.”

 

“I know, I know. I’ll let you go in a minute. Whaddya got against someone holding you for a little while? You didn’t mind right after I had my little meltdown.”

 

“You needed grounding,” Tim said, matter-of-fact. “Touch is…touch _is_.”

 

“Not arguing,” Jason said. “So ground me a little.”

 

Tim apparently didn’t have a response to that, because he stayed quiet.

 

They stayed like that for several minutes, before Jason heaved an inward sigh and let go. He wouldn’t mind trying this again, but he knew Tim was right in that it would be a bad idea to try and actually fall asleep like that. Not to mention that he pretty much knew for sure that Tim wouldn’t get any sleep at all. Tim immediately curled back and away, but Jason knew not to take it personal. Instead he worked over everything in his mind until sleep claimed him.

 

It looked like it was time to cash in his question.

 

**\-----**

 

For all of Tim’s posturing, he was up and eating breakfast by 10:00am. Jason found this out when he woke up to an empty bed and, after a quick shower, dragged himself downstairs to find Tim at the table.

 

Tim glanced up and nodded in greeting, but that was all. Jason got that—he was probably still pretty ticked from last night. It was only a few minutes after Jason sat down that Tim stood up, giving another nod before he left without a word.

 

Jason shrugged it off. He’d screwed up pretty bad. He’d give Tim some time to calm down and cool off. And if he was honest, even if he wanted to spend time with the guy, it still was a good idea to keep distance. At least for a little while.

 

He spent the time Tim was at school working up a sweat in the Cave and going over the reports he’d missed while he’d been gone. He avoided Alfred, who seemed to be radiating disapproval at him, though Jason was pretty sure it was for leaving, not the whole stabbing-Tim-in-the-neck issue.

 

He made sure to be waiting for Tim in the kitchen when he got home from school, but when Tim entered, all he did was grab the plate of salad Jason wasn’t eating from and keep walking.

 

“Sorry,” he said over his shoulder. “Big project. I—Need to get it done.” And he was gone.

 

Jason frowned. Okay, fine. School work. Right. Tim cared about that sort of thing.

 

So what that he’d never put it before Jason, before. At least, not so casually.

 

So what that he just happened to, the day after Jason came back.

 

Perfectly reasonable explanation. Yeah.

 

Sure.

 

\-----

 

Tim stared blankly down at his textbook, the words no longer registering. He…really didn’t know what he was doing. Jason was finally home again, hopefully _not_ beating himself over the knife thing. He had _been waiting_ for Tim.

 

And Tim was in his room, trying to do his homework. Which yes, important to get done, but Jason was more important. Especially right now, when Tim should be doing all he could to assure him that he was healing fine, there were no hard feelings, that he still wanted them to be friends.

 

He _did_ want to friends. Just…

 

Jason had left.

 

Dick had left, after Tim was trained enough. Bruce had never really been all there to begin with. And Jason was older. He was independent. He was working nights with Kory and Roy and making a new name for himself in the streets, and, probably sooner, over later, he was going to grow out of Tim, if he wasn’t already on the way there.

 

And he’d left once, now. He could turn around and go right back out the door again. Tim hadn’t thought about that possibility, hadn’t let it cross his mind, but now that it had happened, he’d been jerked back to reality. People left. And if Jason wasn’t leaving for guilt, wasn’t leaving because it was Tim’s fault, Tim would have no right to try and get him to come back again. Not the next time. And there would be a next time, even if it took longer than usual. That was inevitable.

 

Tim closed his book and stared at his wall. He could take advantage of the time he had now, the days or weeks or months (maybe years, maybe, maybe), and grow closer, more attached. Or he could distance himself now.

 

Short-term hurt, or a long-term one. The latter coupled with the ache of always being on edge, never knowing if today was the last day, or if he might have a tomorrow.

 

He swallowed and clenched his fists. Better to get it over with.  

 

\-----

 

Things were getting weird. Because Jason could overlook being avoided in the morning. He could kinda puzzle out schoolwork taking precedent after school. But Tim took dinner in his room too, because, “I’m sorry, Alfred, but I really need to get this paper done tonight, and I’ve got math to do on top of a project for social sciences,” and he’d only gone down to the cave after Jason had suited up and left for the night.

 

Jason knew that because he’d planted a feed and watched.

 

He didn’t _get_ it. The kid—Tim—had gone to _lengths_ last night, to make sure Jason took up residence in the manor again. And now he was being avoided like the plague. If Tim didn’t want him around, he shouldn’t have gotten Jason in the first place. And if he _did_ , well, a guy deserved a bit of acknowledgement now and then, right?

 

He’d planned to give Tim his space from the get-go. Wanted to ease back into being a part of his life, to trust himself to be trusted again. Except this wasn’t just “space,” this was the freakin’ solar system.

 

“Look alive, Hood!” Roy hissed in his ear.

 

“Perhaps I should take point, if your mind is elsewhere,” Kory added. Jason shook himself and waved them off.

 

“Sorry, I’m good. I’m back on, promise. Let’s go.” Now wasn’t the time to worry. He’d do his job, maybe grab some beers after, and think about it in the morning.

 

\-----

 

It wasn’t working, Tim decided on his way back from patrol. He couldn’t go from spending almost all his time with Jason to spending none of it with him. Jason wasn’t stupid. If he knew Tim was avoiding him on purpose, he’d go after Tim himself. He’d done it before, he’d do it now. And he could already see Jason casting suspicious glances at him. If he didn’t play this right, Jason might make _extra_ effort to spend time with him and Tim…

 

No. Not when he was going to leave.

 

But he’d have to do it slower, be more subtle as he eased himself out of Jason’s life. At least, if nothing else, he was good at lying to people.

 

He’d start now, he thought, parking his bike. His original plan had been to zip upstairs as soon as possible, but that had been a panic plan. Now that he was thinking rationally again…that would have looked exactly like the running away that it was.

 

Instead he cooled down, took his time to type up his report while he ate a sandwich, adding his notes about the time he’d separated from Bruce and spent with Steph, then went to take a shower. He was in his pajamas and eating some of the yogurt and granola Alfred had left him when Jason came zooming back in.

 

“Oh,” Jason said, when he took off his helmet. “Hey.”

 

“Hi,” Tim called, waving from the table. “How was your patrol?”

 

“Fine.” Jason swung a leg over the bike and dismounted, plunked the helmet down on the seat and walked toward Tim. “You’re up,” he said without preamble.

 

“Yeah,” Tim said. “I—I wanted to make sure I actually saw you today. I didn’t want you to think I’ve been avoiding you. It’s just that with being, uh, out, I missed a lot of school, and we’re in that pre-finals time where every teacher loads us with homework. And since I’m in those extra classes too, it’s just…it’s a lot to catch up on. I kind of realized just _how_ much I had to do on my way home today. I’m really sorry.”

 

“But you’re ridiculously smart,” Jason said, grabbing a handful of granola. “Why’d it take all day, this time?”

 

“Just because a subject is easy doesn’t mean that it doesn’t take long to do,” Tim said. “I can speed-read a novel, but I still have to write out the paper. And I have to be meticulous when I do my chemistry and write out _everything_ , because I was tired once and got all the answers without showing my work, and the teacher made me do every problem in class for a week, to make sure I wasn’t cheating.”

 

“Oh.” Jason looked at the granola again, made a face, and grabbed a sandwich.

 

“How was patrol?” Tim asked, as Jason chewed. The man shrugged.

 

“Not bad. Got some stuff done.” He never really talked about what he did on patrol.

 

Tim finished his snack and pushed up from the table. “Speaking of schoolwork, I should get a little bit more done tonight.” Jason stared at him.

 

“You’re going to work on it _now_?”

 

Tim smiled ruefully at him. “I want to make sure I catch up. If I can finish reading my macroeconomics textbook and do the assignment tonight, then I can spend tomorrow focusing on my history project. If I do that, then I’ll be almost caught up, and we can do things together in the afternoon again.”

 

Jason narrowed his eyes. “What a second. Do you do this every night?”

 

“Um. Do what?”

 

“Stay up even later after patrol to finish your homework.”

 

Tim shrugged. “It depends how tired I am. Sometimes I wake up early. It’s when I have time to do it.” Jason glared at him. “I’m used to it!” Tim protested. “I’ve been doing it for years, whenever my parents were home—” He snapped his mouth shut.

 

“Wait, you had parents?”

 

Tim swallowed and blinked slowly. “Did,” he said after a moment. “I. I need to go. Please don’t leave again tonight. I’m even trusting you to sleep in your own room.” He tried a smile, knowing he’d both failed and succeeded when Jason frowned at it. “I’ll see you later?”

 

“Yeah, sure.” Jason started to go in for a hug, saw Tim _flinch_ , and changed movements, clapping him on the shoulder instead. “Don’t stay up too long, okay? Fucking—I’ll let you work straight after school from now on, okay?”

“Maybe you could, um, keep me company,” Tim suggested. “Until you got too bored.”

 

Jason quirked his lips. “Yeah, we can try that. G’night, Tim.”

 

“Good night.”

 

\-----

 

This was good. This would work. Apparently the idea that Tim was losing sleep for schoolwork was a big enough deal for Jason to let Tim work during the day instead. They still hung out, so to speak, but with less time to do it, the activities were less involved. They tended to be quieter too, and Tim could _see_ Jason get antsy only a few minutes in, now. That was good. Jason might stop the interactions himself, so Tim didn’t have to.

 

Tim, for his part, diligently spent time with Jason and engaged him in short conversations and did not regret that there wasn’t more. Did _not_ regret that Jason didn’t…didn’t notice.

 

He didn’t expect Jason to notice. He didn’t _want_ Jason to notice. But sometimes it just…it just still hurt that it was always to easy for Tim to get left behind.

 

That, in the end, no one cared enough to chase after him in their own.

 

**\-----**

 

Jason couldn’t touch Tim.

 

He tried to, the way he _wanted_ , but every time he went in for a hug now, or a hand squeeze or hair ruffle or anything, Tim got this haunted look that Jason couldn’t bring himself to force past. They were still spending time together but it was _hard_ not being able to talk to or touch Tim easily, the way Jason wanted. It was getting him twitchy.

 

He was keeping his distance like a good little vigi. He wasn’t pushing extra time, because Tim seemed so preoccupied with other work (even though he kept fucking _apologizing_ for not having enough time with Jason, honestly seeming to regret it, which was why Jason wasn’t calling foul, that Tim was avoiding him). He wasn’t giving him the hugs the guy sorely needed, wasn’t able to poke his cheek when he got that little crease in his forehead, wasn’t really able to _play_ with him anymore.

 

Worse, the twitchier he got, the more he felt that little itch in the back of his mind. The one that didn’t care about people, or limits, or how much hurt you had to deal out to get what you wanted. And since, to a point, what Jason wanted was Tim, the itch wasn’t…the whispers, the _images_ that sometimes played out in his head, or his dreams…

 

Well. He might not be pushing extra time with Tim because of…other reasons.

 

He was lucky that he had Roy and Kory to spend time with now, hang out with during the day (Lian was fucking adorable even if Jason was positive that he was a terrible influence on her), taking care of business at night. His return to high society had been pushed off a little more to make sure Tim was fully up to what would follow. He and Bruce were having an exclusive interview tomorrow afternoon, the actual party tucked into a Wednesday evening, because rich people did that sort of thing. He couldn’t say he was much looking forward to people knowing who he was again, but at least it would mean he could come and go from the manor like a normal person, instead of sneaking out along secret tunnels. Bruce had enough in his rep to worry about without the paparazzi getting excited over a _new_ teenaged boy living with him, especially one he’d been keeping under wraps.

 

More stuff to think about, more stuff he didn’t _want_ to think about. Almost made him wish for school, so that he had something concrete and steady to fill his days up. Almost.

 

He wished that he hadn’t screwed his life up, when he’d only just gotten it back.

 

\-----

 

“So, Rob,” Superboy said through a mouthful of pizza, “We’ve been a team for a coupla’ weeks now, pretty sure you know what color underwear I’m wearing right now, me and Imp figured it’s time you should share something.”

 

“What,” Tim said, “The color of my underwear?”

 

“If Superboy got his X-ray vision, he’d know what color your underwear was,” Bart said, from where he was eating an entire pizza himself. “Or maybe he wouldn’t. I don’t know how x-ray vision works. I’d think that you’d just see _through_ things but how through and what things? Would you see under clothes, or just see into people’s bones, or look through them completely and see stuff on the other side like they weren’t even there? Robin, do you know? You probably know how Superman’s x-ray vision works, right?”

 

Superboy frowned. “Imp, that’s not the _point_ right now. I don’t care about Superman—and my powers are _just_ as awesome, if not more so, thank you very much, the point’s about _Rob_. And that we still like, basically only know his superhero name.”

 

“If it helps, I don’t have any idea what color underwear you’re wearing,” Tim said easily, taking another bite of pizza. After swallowing he added, “And mine’s dark blue.”

 

Bart snickered as Superboy waved a hand. “That is incredibly interesting Rob. Pegged you for the tight-and-white, nice to know you let a little color into your life.” Tim pointedly looked down at his red, green, and gold uniform, while Bart fell over onto his side laughing.

 

“Imp, come on! You’re supposed to be with me on this.”

 

“I am,” Bart said immediately, sitting up again. “You were doing such a good job, I figured you didn’t need my help.”

 

Superboy threw a crumpled up napkin at Bart, who dodged it easily.

 

“You know, I bet that would have hit him if you had more control over your telekinesis,” Tim said.

 

“It’s _tactile_ telekinesis,” Superboy said with a sniff. “The tactile’s sort of important, dude.”

 

“Well yeah,” Tim said, “But you’re touching the ground. You’re touching the air. That’s how you fly, right? Ideally you _would_ be able to control things through that. I could help you practice.”

 

“Oh, you mean that, like, he’d be able to make stuff fly because he’s touching the air currents around the stuff? That’d be so cool! Superboy, you could make _me_ fly! I mean, I can run so fast that it’s kinda like flying, and I’m learning to do this trick where if I run around enough I sort of lift off the ground but it’s not like it’s-a-bird-it’s-a-plane flying and it’s not the same if you’re holding on to someone else, no offense, it’s still pretty awesome but—”

 

This time Superboy threw his slice of pizza. Which Bart caught, looking at him mournfully before taking a bite.

 

“You shouldn’t waste food,” he admonished through his mouthful.

 

Tim laughed. It was nice to be able to relax and unwind. Even if it meant playing keep-away with his personal life while doing so, there wasn’t the _tension_ there that had permeated his home, with Jason and Bruce and…everything. He was glad that he had Superboy and Bart as teammates now, maybe even tentative friends.

 

“Superboy, he’s laughing! Quick, ask him something while he isn’t expecting it!”

“I _would’ve_ if you hadn’t just _ruined_ my element of surprise!”

 

Tim hummed and took a swig of zesti, perfectly content to just let the evening unfold.

 

\-----

 

Going back to the manor was different, now. Especially when he had Superboy and Stephanie and Bart to spend time with outside of it. It was much more…lonely at home, with friends to look forward to and Jason…to not spend time with.

 

It was happening, quicker than he’d expected though it hadn’t been a surprise. Jason was around less now, more often than not hanging out with Roy or Kory or working out, or even reclaiming Gotham by daylight, now that he was allowed to. They talked a little, enough to know that Jason was making it a game to avoid reporters, or to play up memory losses and screw with their information, but it seemed superficial. Hi, how are you, how was your day, great. It felt sort of like he was back at _home_ again. With his dad, maybe, the type of conversation they had when he’d actually taken an interest for a few moments.

 

Tim idly wondered if having Jason in his life now was sort of like what having an older brother in his past life would have been. Someone that he admired and cared about, but who was moving on and up and leaving Tim behind, just because that’s how the world worked.

 

At least he’d had the time that he did. Those were memories to cherish, keepsakes in the ways that his photos were. Bruce was better. And Jason was happy now. That was all Tim could have wanted, really. Tim was happy too, for the most part. He kind of wished that he could move out of the manor though. It was worse, somehow, to come back to an empty house when you knew other people lived in it.

 

\-----

 

“Hey, boy wonder,” Stephanie said out of the blue. “What’s the matter?” They had ended their patrol a few minutes ago, and were taking a break before parting ways, lying together on their backs on a rooftop.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

She shrugged. “You just seem kinda down, that’s all. Or not really down, just—thinking about something else?”

 

“Today was my last day of school,” he said. “It’s officially my summer vacation.”

 

“Oh yeah? I’m next week. Don’t tell me you’re sad about _that_ . I know you’re kind of a freak, but you can’t be this distant because you’re gonna be missing homework. I won’t _believe_ you.”

 

“No, no, it’s not that. Its just…school kept me busy. I don’t really have anything _planned_ for the summer.”

 

“What, no Batman’s-sidekick summer camps? He’s not sending you to China to train on mountaintops in the rain?”

 

Tim chuckled. “Not quite. I mean, I’ll be able to spend more time training, certainly, but I can’t really do that to fill up the entire eight hours I’m suddenly going to have. And…” he sobered, then sighed. Steph certainly knew enough. “And I’m worried, a little, about being in the manor.”

 

Steph rolled over onto her side, so that she could face him. “Why? Is something…”

 

Tim shook his head. “Nothing it’s just. Uh. Lonely?”

 

She smacked him. “Then invite me over! I’m sure you could convince the Bat that I’m not about to go to the press.”

 

“Fat chance of that,” Tim said. “You know how he is with the identity thing. Maybe if I were _dying_. I mean, now that we know each other more, but aside from that…”

 

“Guess dying of boredom doesn’t count with him, huh?”

 

“What do _you_ think?”

 

She sighed and flopped onto her back again. “That really _sucks_ . I mean, at least when I’m Stephanie I’ve got, like, _friends_ . It seems like you’re so tied up in being Robin that you don’t get to make time for the real people. I mean, you know, who get to know the guy behind the mask. So you’re just stuck by yourself when you get to be a real human being instead of a superkid. Robin, that’s—that’s _awful_.”

 

“I. There are a few people who know me. Out of costume, I mean.”

 

“Yeah? Who aren’t Batman? Who?”

 

“Nightwing. And, uh, a couple other people.” Alfred counted.

 

“Anyone anywhere close to your _age_? You know, who could hang out with?”

 

“I hang out with Nightwing sometimes. When he’s not too busy.”

 

“Robin, if you don’t say something in the next thirty seconds that isn’t at least _kinda_ positive, I’m dragging you back to my house. Screw Batman, we’ll have an epic sleepover and watch movies and eat junk food and completely freak out my mom when she learns I know a boy who’s _wholesome_.”

 

“I—”

 

“And if you even try to put on Alvin Draper or whoever when I’m yanking your mask off, I’ll hit you.”

 

“With a brick?”

 

“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

 

“It hurt,” Tim said plaintively.

 

She poked him in the cheek. “C’mon, boy wonderbread, work with me here. I don’t like you lonely. It’s not _fair_ . What about that guy? The one you used to hang out with a lot? I’m betting _he_ knows who you are. After everything between you two, he’s not down for a movie or something?”

 

Tim stared at the sky. “He…he’s not…”

 

“Not what?”

 

“Not really around much.” He closed his eyes behind the mask. “He’s got a lot of other things he’s dealing with. And other people that he hangs out with, now.”

 

Steph growled. “Seriously? He’s up and leaving you? Who the hell is he? If you don’t tell me, I’ll _find out_ . And beat him up! That’s not—he can’t—” She growled again and sat up, leaning over Tim. “I mean it, Robin. Convince Batman to let me in, for your sake. Or _I_ will. I tracked him down once when you were on the line, I’ll do it again.”

 

“…I’ll try, Steph.”

 

She grabbed him up into a tight hug. “You better. Or I’ll spoil his night, just watch me.” After a few more moments, she let him go. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

 

“Yeah. And thanks, Steph. I mean it.” He smiled and touched her hand. “I’d probably go crazy if I didn’t have you.”

 

“Crazi _er_ ,” she said, before waving and diving off the rooftop.

 

\-----

 

That night, Bruce came up to Tim while he was typing up his report at the console.

“Tim?” Tim glanced up.

 

“Yes, Bruce?”

 

“I think we need to talk.”

 

Tim blinked, and swiveled fully around in the chair. “About?”

 

“About your plans for the summer.”

 

“What? I—”

 

“Someone spray-painted a very interesting note on the hood of the batmobile,” Bruce said. “In purple paint.”

 

_Stephanie, I didn’t say I had a death wish!_ Tim swallowed. “Oh?”

 

Bruce sighed. “It’s nothing a little more paint won’t fix, Tim.”

 

“That’s. That’s good.” She had tagged the batmobile. Tim was still a little in shock.

 

“But she raised a fair point,” Bruce continued. “So did you. You already know I’ve given you permission to spend as much time as you like with Superboy and Impulse, but it couldn’t hurt for you to have a friend you didn’t need to wear a mask for.” His eyes grew distant, for a moment. “It probably would have helped Jason, to have had that when he was younger.” Less reckless, less desperate to find someone else to relate to, but he’s alive now and Bruce—

 

Tim stopped breathing. Was Bruce seriously--?

 

“There will be rules, of course,” Bruce said sternly. “No last names. Topics that might lead her to discovering your full identity are off limits. You will only spend time at her house after a designated amount of meetings in public places. And you will refrain from discussing anything that might compromise security.”

 

_I do that now,_ Tim didn’t say. What he managed was, “Of course! I—thank you!” He chanced a quick hug, something Bruce had gotten better at with Jason back, before darting away from the console to head to his room. He had Steph’s number; he could call her, set something up, talk to her about _tagging the Batmobile_ —

 

He bumped into Jason on the way up, hair still wet from the shower.

 

“Don’t you look excited,” he said. “What’s up?”

 

“Bruce gave me permission to see Stephanie,” Tim said, beaming. “Out of costume! Like-like a normal person!”

 

“Yeah?” Jason smiled. “That’s great, Tim.”

 

“Jason, Jason, she spray-painted the batmobile.” In his excitement, Tim just wanted to share, be happy with Jason again, like they were before. Like he wished they could still _be_ “She threatened to do something when I talked to her tonight, but I never thought—she painted part of the hood _purple_ , Jason.”

 

Jason whistled. “Got to hand it to her,” he said, “That girl’s got _guts_.” He smiled again, though his eyes looked…off. “I’m really happy for you, Tim.” He reached over and gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Don’t go too crazy,” he said.

 

“Don’t worry,” Tim called over his shoulder, as he headed to his room.

 

Jason watched him go, the hand that had touched Tim clenching into a fist. He’d hoped that with school being over now, Tim would have more time, would want to spend some of that time with _him_ but…

 

Looks like that was wishful thinking.

 

He very deliberately unclenched his fist and stared at his hand. He had nothing against this Stephanie chick. She spent time with Tim, and made him happy, she could clearly hold her own in a fight, and she had the balls to stick it to the Bat, where Tim was concerned. That alone should have endeared her to Jason.

 

But Jason couldn’t get over that Tim had picked _her._ To go to, to spend time with, to—

 

_He_ had been the one to coax Tim out of his shell. _He’d_ been the one who’d gotten him to stop hiding behind the blank face, to stop jumping at shadows, to quit with the stutter and own his snark. And now Tim was going to someone else to share all that with, leaving Jason behind, ever since

 

Ha. Yeah. Ever since Jason had made the biggest mistake of his life.

 

Jason scrubbed a hand over his face. Fuck it, he was sick of regretting, of watching Tim slip away, of listening to the Pit’s whispers. Couldn’t do anything about the first two, but at least alcohol sometimes shut the last one up.

 

He was due for going out and getting shitfaced. And with luck it might make him forget about the rest of it too.

 

**\-----**

  


Fucking…fuck. Didn’t think this through. Couldn’t get home now, couldn’t drive, wasn’t about to get someone to drop him off either. Fuck. Just…fuck.

 

Jason managed to stumble himself to a safehouse, some dingy apartment not too far from the last bar. Key in a loose brick outside the building, managed to open the door on the third try. He shrugged out of his jacket and slid to the floor, hands on his knees.

 

Fuck.

 

He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be home, with Tim, where things weren’t so damned twisted, where _he_ wasn’t so damn twisted, where he could get through a night without nightmares and wishes and whispers in his ears.

 

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone and a few scraps of papers. Numbers until he didn’t feel like bothering to flirt, preferring to just drink in his little corner of solitude. Entertained the idea of taking one or two of them home, told em to get lost once he realized the type he kept going back to, the ones he paid _attention_ to, after the fifth drink.

 

Small. Thin. Flat.

 

Black hair.

 

_Fuck_.

 

Snapped back to reality once it sunk it that the thinness wasn’t leanness, that there wasn’t muscle on their arms, that their chests, though small, were _there_

 

Pervert on top of everything else. Shit, at least he wasn’t a pedo. Two and a half years between them, that’s it, but christ, Jason felt so much older.

 

He scrubbed his face with a hand. He wondered if this was the Pit. The pit told lies and twisted words and loved the color red too much, the taste of tears, but it liked the violence and betrayal parts, not the…being attached. The focus, that was new. Maybe he just needed something that _had_ that much feeling.

 

Hadn’t been thinking about it, hadn’t been _thinking_ about it, the alcohol was laying him bear, letting things out, letting things _in_ fuck it he was never drinking alone again. At least Harper or Kory could smack the shit out of him, keep him grounded, back to reality, not thinking about taking a smaller body, a _particular_ —

 

Put him in a room with someone who deserved it, killing might be in the cards. Make it Tim and tear down the walls and he was worried about doing something…

 

Else.

 

He’d always been possessive, but this edge was pure Pit. The malevolence, the—the—

 

_Mine._

 

He cursed and pushed himself up, tore off his clothes, staggered to the bathroom. Stood in the cramped shower and turned on the water, cursing again at the temperature but freezing was fine, freezing was _here_ and _alive_ and _not fucking insane_.

 

He was helping the Pros, gelding the child-fuckers, not-quite-killing the people Bruce could get wind of, everyone was freaking _safe,_ everyone except for one _kid_

 

(just two and a half years, got to grow up some time)

 

who _deserved_ to be

 

(he offered himself once, younger and more afraid, wearing fake confidence like a cologne)

 

who’d had enough shit in his life

 

(didn’t get beaten, didn’t get buried, didn’t go for a nice little dip)

 

Jason clenched his teeth and turned the water off. Stood there dripping and furious and frustrated, needed to let off some steam before he found a way to let it off _wrong_ , plenty of people out in the cold, wide world that needed a little fixing of the permanent kind

 

Hand trembling, he reached down and tried to think of wide hips and big boobs, not bony shoulders and sharp smiles, cursing the Pit as it laughed at him.

 

\-----

 

Jason wasn’t at the breakfast table the next morning. Curious, Tim went to check the garage when Alfred let him leave the table, to find that Jason’s favorite bike was missing. So either he’d left really early, or he’d left late and hadn’t come back. Either way, he was gone.

 

He managed to tamp down the pang of sadness, but missed disappointed. It had been stupid, but he’d been maybe hoping that Jason wouldn’t leave again. That there would be someone who didn’t.

 

Well. It was okay. Jason had his own life and his own team and…Tim did too, now. The thought made him perk up, smile even in the face of Jason leaving. Steph wanted to spend time with him. She’d challenged Batman to _do_ it. And now he was going to meet her this afternoon when she got out of school, talking in the park, grabbing some lunch like normal people did. Like he had, sometimes, in school, before Robin became too important.

 

…before he’d gone after Jason.

 

Tim shook his head and left the garage. He wasn’t going to think about it. He had Stephanie now, who he cared about and who cared about him, and he had Kon even though he was obnoxious and Bart even if he was a little younger (subjectively speaking) and he had friends who _knew_ him, or at least the parts that were important.

 

He was going to meet Steph without masks or fake names and they were going to hangout and he would bet money that at lunch she was going to order burger, fries, and a shake, and maybe he would offer to help her with homework, if she wanted that…

 

His stomach was getting fluttery thinking about it, and at this rate he was going to fret himself into the ground before three o’clock.

 

“Alfred?”

 

“Yes, Master Timothy?”

 

“Could you drop me off downtown?” Tim grinned. “I haven’t seen Gotham in the daytime in a while. And I want to walk around, maybe kill some time. Find an interesting store Steph might like, or something.”

 

Alfred smiled back. He, of course, knew about Stephanie. And probably couldn’t approve any harder at Bruce without actively spelling out the sentiment. “Certainly, Master Timothy. Just give me a few minutes to clean up.”

 

“I’ll be in my room!” Tim went off to mess with his computer, keep himself busy until they left. It was going to be a _good_ day. He wasn’t letting there be another option.

 

\-----

 

Jason blinked awake to the mid-morning sun kicking him in the face and not taking no for an answer. Being awake was better than the dreams though, so it was only with half-hearted grumbles that he got up to scrub the taste of alcohol out of his mouth and the remnants of sleep from his skin.

 

He glanced at the clock, ten-thirty, not too bad, not like he had much to do anyway. Maybe he could just go out for a late breakfast. Drop in on Dick or something after.

 

Yeah, no. Jason made a face at the idea of seeing Dick with his mind the way it was. No way, better to leave the family alone for a little while. Dick’d take one look at him and pester to find out what was wrong and Jason was not about to chance letting anything slip. He was only barely making it past Bruce and that was because the man could be _dense._ Alfred he…didn’t want to think about.

 

Maybe he could talk to Kory. She’d at least be able to listen in a way that no one else really could.

 

Okay, yeah. Breakfast, and then he’d give Kory a call. Plan. Great. Focus on that, on the shower, the shave, the meal, the meeting and

 

Don’t think about anyone else.

 

\-----

 

“It is wonderful to see you, Jason,” Kory said brightly, sitting down across from the couch in which Jason is sprawled. Jason’s lips quirked.

 

“You saw me two days ago.”

 

“It is always wonderful to see you!”

 

Jason laughed, and god, yeah, Kory was a good choice. “Thanks. What’s up?”

 

“Not very much. I spent most of the morning in my garden, but I decided to take a break for you.” She looked at him. “Are you ready to talk?”

 

Jason blinked. “Talk about what?”

 

She waved a hand. “What has been causing you distress. Unhappiness.”

 

“Oh.” Jason looked at the floor. “Uh. Yeah.”

 

She floated up next to him, hovering over the arm of the couch until Jason scooted over to let her sit down. He stared at her for a moment before flopping over into her lap.

 

It kind of bummed him out a little that it was all in total innocence. And that he didn’t want it any other way.

 

“Whenever you are ready, Jason.”

 

It took a good ten minutes of them sitting in silence, Kory running her fingers through Jason’s hair, before Jason was able to exhale and start talking. He started with the Pit, how it felt when it was all he could think, how it was all he _was_ , moved to when he’d first met Tim, how that went, how it evolved, the fights, the stories, the—the _Tim_. Kory listened, face stoic, nodding occasionally to spur Jason on

 

“—and the biggest problem is that I don’t _want_ it, even though I do. I don’t—I just want the guy to be _happy_ , and that involves not dealing with me and my shit. Especially this kind. It just—it goes too deep. I don’t know what’s me and what’s Pit or even if there’s a fucking difference, and I can’t risk it. I can’t.” He growled and squeezed his eyes shut. Kory rested her hands on his shoulders.

 

“I think there is a difference,” she said. “Because you wonder that there is one. You’re too conflicted for this to be just the Lazarus’s influence. And I doubt that vile pit has ever wanted someone’s happiness in all its existence.”

 

“Yeah. So I’ve still got some of that humanity left. I guess.” He shrugged, one shoulder moving against her leg. “But it doesn’t help much. I’m still stuck.”

 

“Why not talk to Tim?”

 

“You’re kidding.”

 

She shook her head. “No. Why not? He’s smart and strong, and you love him. Maybe he could help you fix the problem.”

 

Jason shook his head. “No. No fucking way.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because if I get close enough to _talk_ to him about it, I’m close enough to do everything else.  And if I ever tell him anything, I want him to have the option to say no and be able to fucking respect it.”

 

Kory frowned but nodded. “We’ll think about it. Would you like to stay with me for a little while? So that you’re not living alone with yourself.”

 

Jason opened his mouth to turn down the offer and stopped. Why not? Kory had a sweet place, lots of room, and he had plenty of stuff he could do to keep from freeloading. Not to mention that yeah, the voices got quieter when he was with someone else. And if anyone could deal with a bad mood, it was Kory, even if it meant smashing you through a wall. Especially then.

 

He wasn’t ten anymore, wasn’t thirteen, wasn’t fifteen. He didn’t have to go it alone.

 

“Yeah,” he said. “That’d be great, Kory. Thanks.”

 

Kory beamed at him. Then she pushed him off the couch.

 

The ensuing spar helped to let off most of the built-up steam, though Jason didn’t realize that until after it was over and he owed Kory half of a new living room.

 

**\-----**

 

“Come on slowpoke, hurry it up!”

 

“Steph, we don’t have to rush. The penguins aren’t going anywhere.”

 

“But we’ll _see them sooner_. I let you have all that time in the reptile house. Come on!”

 

Tim grinned and obligingly moved faster, helped along by the fact that Stephanie was pretty much dragging him along. She whirled away when they got closer to the exhibit’s entrance, waving him forward when he slowed down again on purpose.

 

“You sure took your time,” she said, crossing her arms when he finally joined her inside.

 

“Savoring the moments,” he said. She laughed and hit him on the shoulder.  Did both again, harder, when she noticed his expression.

 

“You look completely goofy right now, you know that?”

 

Tim shrugged, smile fond and yes, probably goofy. “I can’t help it.” He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I’m with you.”

 

\-----

 

“Jason.”

 

“Hey, Bruce.”

 

“I wanted to know if you had plans on coming home any time soon.”

 

“Oh. Not sure.”

 

“I know that you and Koriand’r have an understanding but…”

 

“But what?”

 

“It is your home, Jason.”

 

“Yeah? Anyone in it miss me?”

 

“You know we do.”

 

“Look, Bruce, I’m figuring a few things out. It was that or an apartment on my own and. I’m not really up to being alone right now.”

 

“You weren’t, in the manor.”

 

“Wasn’t an option.”

 

“You’re still allowed to come _by_ , even if you don’t sleep here.”

 

“…yeah.”

 

“Will you?”

 

“I’ll think about it.”

 

\-----

 

“Robin, we’ve got people down in the second building!”

 

“I know, I know. Impulse, swing around and get people _out_ of there. Make that your priority, fighting second. SB and I’ll hold down the fort while you move. Superboy, make sure to hit behind the joints. That’s where they’re weakest.

 

“Yeah, got it. Just keep up with your end of the lightshow and I’ll keep up with mine.”

 

“You know it.” He aimed, threw another batarang. The explosion brought down another of the robots. “Imp! How are we doing on the evac?”

 

A red and white blur zoomed back in front of Tim’s lenses before flashing out of sight again. “Almost done! I want to make a round of the top floors, but I’m worried about support.”

 

“Superboy?”

 

“On it!”

 

Tim get up his on attacks on the robots while Superboy went in to help Bart, using his TTK to feel out and correct any stability issues while the speedster went in and checked around. They still had their issues now and again, but they were well on their way to becoming a well-oiled machine, perfectly in sync. It was taking time and plenty of headaches, but he wouldn’t exchange it for anything.

 

\-----

 

“Hey Alfred,” Jason said, hands stuffed in his pockets when the older man opened the door.

 

“Master Jason! This is a pleasant surprise. You are here to stay, I hope?”

 

Jason shook his head. “No uh, just for a visit. I wanted to talk to you. Is that okay?”

 

Alfred just ushered Jason inside, until he was sitting in the kitchen with a drink and a sandwich in front of him.

 

“Please,” Alfred said, taking a seat across from him. “Talk in your own time.”

 

Jason sighed and took a bite of the sandwich, to give himself another moment and also because one did not simply refuse to eat something Alfred put in front of you.

 

When he swallowed his mouthful, he said, “I’m thinking about testing out of school.”

 

“Master Jason?”

 

“You know,” he said in a rush. “Just getting my GED and being done with it. I know I’d have to study for it and everything, I’ve missed too much not too, but I don’t think it’d be that difficult; a lot of this stuff I learned back when…back when I was first training, you know? And I don’t think I’d be able to stand being around the kids, if I went back. They’re just too young. I just want to get it out of my way and move on.”

 

“You don’t know that you wouldn’t be able to make a friend or two, Master Jason.”

 

“Yeah but…” Jason sighed. “And do what? Talk about girls? It’s not like I could join a sports team or something. I couldn’t commit to something like that. The homework and stuff would just be extra work on my plate, when I could be doing something useful instead.”

 

“Useful?”

 

“Training. Or being out on the streets.”

 

Alfred inclined his head. “And what do you do with your days, Master Jason?”

 

Jason shrugged. “Catch up on sleep? Train. Plan out my next moves. Hang out with Kory or Roy, sometimes.

 

“And nothing else?”

 

Jason shrugged again.

 

“Master Jason, do you want to go to college?”

 

Jason sighed. “I don’t know. It’s not really something I ever thought about. There’s nothing I really want to do that _needs_ college, you know?” 

“What do you want to do with your life?” Jason opened his mouth. “ _Long_ term goals, Master Jason. Even Master Bruce does something with his daylight hours.”

 

Jason took several more bites of his sandwich. At last he said, “I never really thought about it. Having something in the future, I mean. At first it was, you know, _survive_. And then it was Robin and life was a whirlwind, and then I died and…now I’m back and life went crazy again. I never got around to thinking about what I wanted to be when I grew up.”

 

“You have time yet for that,” Alfred said gently. “Think on it. Take the time to think about who you are, and who and what you would like to be. There is no rush.”

 

“I. I still think I want to test out of high school. Whatever I do. If I studied hard, I think I could do it.”

 

“If that is what you truly want, Master Jason. But I still implore you to think of the future. Your whole future.” Alfred exhaled, just slightly. On someone less dignified, it might have been a sigh. “It is long past time to live as though you have one.”

 

\-----

 

Tim stared at his phone. He had Jason’s number. He had several of Jason’s numbers. But he would probably be bothering him if he called. Jason was staying with Kory, and doing plenty of good on the streets, and he even sort of talked to Bruce once in a while. He wasn’t self-destructing. Tim had no right to try to call and worm back into his life.

 

He missed him. But it would hurt more to re-establish contact and then lose it all over again

 

He put down his phone and turned back to his computer.

 

\-----

 

Jason stared at his phone. He had a couple of ways he could try to contact Tim. But he didn’t want to risk it. Besides, from what he heard around, Tim was doing great. His team was working out really well and he was having the time of his life with his girlfriend. He was growing up. Jason wasn’t a part of that, and had no right to want to be.

 

He missed him. But wasn’t going to give himself the chance to lose control; he’d rather be forgotten.

 

He put down his phone and turned back to his papers.

 

\-----

 

Kory paced her living room, hair lashing behind her as she walked back and forth. She was deeply displeased. She was happy to have Jason live with her, but it was not making Jason happy. He was avoiding the manor, and avoiding the people who lived in it, and it was clear that it was causing the entire family pain.

 

She refused to allow one of her loved ones to live like this. Something had to change.

 

She knew that Jason was worried. He was worried about what he might do and about what Tim might think of him for wanting to do it. She didn’t know Tim very well. Dick had introduced them back when Tim had first become Robin, and they had met several times since, but she knew nothing about him as a person, save from Dick and Jason’s descriptions. From what she had gleaned from them, he was nice, if quiet, not very good at being social but was usually willing to try, slightly awkward, and devastatingly intelligent.

 

She wondered if he even knew that he was unintentionally causing Jason so much turmoil. If he did not, it was about time he learned. And if he was aware… her eyes flashed. Either way, she decided, they were going to have words. This had gone on too long.

 

Not wanting to wait, she simply flew to the manor and knocked. Alfred let her in.

 

“I would like to talk with Tim,” she said.

 

If Alfred was surprised, he did not show it. “Master Timothy is out with a friend, Miss Anders.”

 

“When will he be back?”

 

“I believe he said around three.”

 

“Do you know where they are now?”

 

There was a moment’s pause. “Miss Anders, may I inquire as to what you wish to discuss with Master Timothy?”

 

“Jason.”

 

“I see.” Alfred looked heavenward, and then sighed. “They mentioned the city park, today.” Kory nodded.

 

“Very well. Thank you.”

 

“Good day, Miss Anders. Do try to talk some sense into them both.”

 

Kory smiled. “I will do my best.”

 

She turned and flew off, heading for the park, landing a block or two away so that she would be less conspicuous when she entered. She didn’t have high hopes that she’d find Tim looking on foot, but it would draw less attention and at least keep her busy. Then, if she did not find him, she would return to the manor at three and wait.

 

Alfred had said that Tim was with a friend, and if they had plans to spent most of their time at the park, they had probably brought food with them, so she kept a look-out for black-haired boys on blankets, and wished that she had asked for a description of Tim’s friend, and whether or not there was more than one.

 

Eventually, after approaching several couples and only receiving awe or dirty looks, she found another pair that fit the description she was searching for, tucked away in a more secluded area of the park. A black-haired boy in his teens, sitting on a square of purple fabric with a blonde girl about the same age. He was laughing, the girl waving her hands around wildly as she spoke. They looked very happy. She was almost sorry to interrupt.

 

“Excuse me,” she said, going closer. “Are you Tim Drake?” Both swiveled around to stare at her. It was the girl who spoke first.

 

“Holy—Starfire?!” She smacked the boy on the shoulder. “You jerk! You invited Starfire?”

 

Starfire frowned. “I was not invited. There is no need to get upset.”

 

“It’s not—she didn’t mean. Uh.” The boy shook his head. “Nevermind. Uh, yeah. I’m Tim.” He held out a hand. “Hi, um, Koriand’r. It’s been a while. Is something the matter?”

 

She shook his hand. “Yes, something is. I would like to speak with you.” She looked to the girl. “I apologize for interrupting…?”

 

“Stephanie,” the girl said, eyes round. “Steph. It’s cool, it’s fine. Is it…” she lowered her voice, “Bat?”

 

“Steph!”

 

“ _What_ Tim, geez! She’s freaking Starfire and she was _your_ older brother’s girlfriend I kinda figured she knew what was up!”

 

“Okay, okay, sorry.” Tim rubbed his shoulder. “Did you need to speak with me in private?” Starfire looked the two of them over.

 

“Yes, I think that would be best.”

 

Steph made shooing motions with her hands. “Go on, it’s okay. I’ll be here when you’re done. Unless, uh, are you taking him away?”

 

Starfire shook her head, hair swinging behind her. “Just a talk for now will be sufficient.” She motioned to a spot a little further away. “Tim?”

 

“Right, right.” He smiled at Steph. “Be back in a bit.” She wiggled her fingers as they walked away.

 

“She seems nice,” Starfire said, as they walked.

 

“She is!” And then Tim was beaming. “She’s really amazing.”

 

“You are close with her.”

 

“Uh. Yes?”

 

Starfire nodded. “Is she your girlfriend?”

 

Tim glanced back at Steph before turning to look fully at Starfire again. “That’s not what you wanted to talk to me about, is it? Because if Dick’s sending _you_ to snoop, that’s—”

 

“No one sent me,” Starfire interrupted. “I came to talk with you about Jason.”

 

Instantly Tim’s face blanked off completely. The effect was sudden and telling. “Oh,” he said. “Did he…have a message or something?” That he didn’t want to tell me himself.

 

“No.” Starfire frowned. “He isn’t well.”

 

Tim’s eyes widened. “He’s sick? I—I mean you…I mean—”

 

“ _No_ .” Starfire crossed her arms. “He’s sick in his heart. It hurts him, that he no longer spends time with you. He misses you and Bruce and Alfred and the manor. He is pining. I love him and love having him, but he _should_ go back home.”

 

“Oh.” Tim stared at the ground.

 

Starfire waited, until it became clear that Tim wasn’t about to say anything else. “Do you not love him?” she prompted.

 

“I.” Tim swallowed. “Of course I do.”

 

“Will you not try to bring him back one more time?”

 

“I. That’s.” Tim shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

 

“Why not?” She stared at him, unblinking.

 

“Well… I’m guessing you know most of it?” She nodded. “Yeah, so, um, the first time it was to bring him back. Both he and Bruce needed it. And the second time was because he was practically self-destructing and I couldn’t let that _happen_. But now he’s. I mean, I think he’s mostly okay. And if he’s upset I don’t think it’s because of…” he shook his head. “He left. He doesn’t want to be around me. Not… he left.”

 

Starfire watched Tim struggle to find words, to face the obvious pain the topic brought him. She watched him awkwardly rub his own shoulder for comfort, a phantom hug, clearly a move so ingrained he wasn’t aware of it. She watched him and realized he was hurting just as much as Jason was, perhaps more so for his obliviousness.

 

He loved Jason.

 

He thought Jason didn’t want him.

 

She bit down a growled curse at the stupidity of both of them, at the society that so loved to hide its feelings that such miscommunications were rampant. Instead she closed her eyes to reign in her temper, and said,

 

“I need to speak with your Steph.”

 

Tim blinked in surprise, and watched her quickly fly over to where Steph was waiting. They spoke for several minutes, Starfire’s back and hair blocking the conversation.

 

When Starfire flew away, Tim trotted back over to Stephanie and sat down on the blanket next to her. She had her head pillowed on the fist of one hand, munching on something as she stared at him.

 

“Am I allowed to know what you two talked about?” he asked.

 

“In a couple days,” she said. “I’m part of a Plan.” She stressed the last word, rolling it on her tongue. Tim sighed.

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

“So, back to picnic? Or was this a total mood killer?”

 

“No, no, I’m fine. Back to picnic.”

 

“Good.” She hit him on the shoulder. “You need to warn a girl that superheroes might randomly drop in on her dates! That was simultaneously one of the best and most terrifying experiences of my life!”

 

“Having a superhero drop in?”

 

“Having _Starfire_ drop in! Have you _looked_ at her?”

 

“Of course I have,” Tim said. “She’s…” He made vague, wavy hand circles. “Uh…intimidating?”

 

Steph laughed and grabbed him up into a side hug. “Never change, boy wonder.”

 

**\-----**

 

Over the next few days, it became obvious that something was up. Steph kept asking him questions out of the blue and avoiding answers herself, Starfire visited the manor at least every other day (and once at the Just-us lair; it had been hilarious to watch Superboy’s eyes bug out of his head), and even Alfred seemed to be in on it.

 

Alfred was hard to deal with. He kept bringing Jason up; asking Tim questions that Tim couldn’t answer anymore (how is Master Jason doing? What is Master Jason up to these days? Has Master Jason made any progress with his summer studies?), or mentioning Jason in passing. At least Bruce didn’t say all that much about it.

 

Bruce was hard to deal with too. He’d withdrawn again, though thankfully by much less. It was more like he was upset that Jason wasn’t _around_ over that he had moved out of the manor. That he was still happy on some level, because at least Jason was alive and living his life. He was just missing a son that didn’t want to include him in it.

 

Tim could kind of understand that.

 

But on the bright side, he wasn’t pushing Tim away. If anything, he was actually treating him more like someone who—who might actually be missed, if he ever left too. That was kind of nice. At least Bruce and Alfred wouldn’t leave him. Not while he could still be useful.

 

It was that thought that pushed him to work harder, train harder. And it helped to distract him from whatever Steph and Starfire were up too.

 

\-----

 

“I’m serious Roy, I think I’m losing it.” Jason was over at Roy’s place, hands clenched around a beer. “I _miss_ him. And half of me doesn’t want to see him again because it’s just been so fucking long, he’s probably _furious_ at me, and the other doesn’t because it’s afraid that if I actually see him face to face I’m going to try to eat him or something. And all of me _wants_ to despite all that and it’s not going _away_.”

 

Roy nodded. “I know, man. You’ve gotta do _something_ about it. Even Lian can tell something’s wrong.”

 

Jason’s head jerked up. “What?”

 

Roy gave him a half-smile. “She’s been asking me, ‘when is Uncle Jason going stop to being sad?’ She’s worried about you, same as we are.”

 

Jason let his head thunk back down to the table. “Great.”

 

Roy ruffled his hair. “You know it sounds like you’re obsessed with this kid, right?”

 

“God, please don’t call him a kid. It makes me feel worse.”

 

“He’s what? Fifteen?”

 

“Going to be sixteen in twelve days. Not that I’m keeping track.”

 

“Christ, Jason.

 

“I know.”

 

“So what are you going to do?”

 

Jason sat back up and sighed. “Fuck if I know. I’ve been trying to figure it out for weeks. Everything was _fine_ but after the… after I fucked up, things just went south.”

 

Roy shrugged. “If a knife to the throat made him back away for good, he’s not right for you anyway.”

 

“Don’t even. He’s way too fucking good for me and I know it. And he _didn’t_ , that’s the thing. I told you. When he woke up? Everything was _peachy_. Like I’d gotten in a lucky punch while sparring. I was the one who couldn’t take it and split. And he came and brought me _back_. Again. And that’s when things just got…worse. He was busy and my head was too fucked up to be near him anyway, and then it just…” he shook his head.

 

“There’s a part of me that wants to see him again for all the wrong reasons, and I wish I could say it was pure Pit, but it’s getting really hard to separate it out. I don’t _know_. And I can’t risk it.”

 

“Maybe if you actually see him again, things would get better? You’d be able to see for yourself that he was okay. And he’s handled you before.”

 

“Yeah, when he fought dirty and I was holding back.” Jason rubbed at his face. “I’m not saying he’s not good. He is. But I’m bigger, stronger, and I’ve been around longer. I think it’d be different if we were playing for keeps.”

 

“So bring along a chaperone.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

Roy shrugged. “You’re worried about stuff that’ll happen when you’re alone. So don’t be alone. At least not to start. Visit when Bruce is around and in the same room. Or hell, I’m pretty sure Alfred wouldn’t let anything happen. He’d _tranq_ you or something. Or ask Dick to come along on a bat-kid outing or something. He’s been dying to anyway. Even I’d be up to it, depending on the time. And I’m sure Kory’d _love_ to.”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because I wouldn’t want to live myself if I _did_ try something, okay? Even if I got stopped. I don’t want to think that I _might._ That I could.” His hands clenched. “God I miss him so fucking much.”

 

\-----

 

“Jason,” Kory called from the kitchen, “Can you get the door please? My hands are full.”

 

“Sure thing,” Jason said, halting his push-ups to go over toward the door. He didn’t bother checking who it was, expecting it to be someone he’d seen before. By this point he knew pretty much everyone Kory did, friend or otherwise. He’d even gotten a couple modeling offers from one of her regular photographers.

 

“Uh… Hi?” It was a blonde chick he didn’t recognize. Shorts and a tank top, both showing that she was not only well-built but kept in shape. Probably someone he’d flirt with if he wasn’t so crazy messed up. Okay.

 

“Sup!” She grinned cheekily at him and stuck out a hand. “You’re Jason right?”

 

He shook it. Kory told most of her visitors that she had a roommate. “Yeah. And you are?”

 

“Here to see Kory. She’s in the kitchen, right? Kory!”

 

“Yes, kitchen!”

 

“Cool.” She brushed past Jason, and yeah, there was strength there. She turned back to wink at him before she went to the kitchen. “See you later!”

 

That sounded more ominous than it should have. Especially since, now that he was wracking his brain trying to place her, she seemed _familiar_.

 

It came to him about fifteen minutes later while he was shadow boxing. The tone, demeanor, build, sass, _hair_ …

 

He went in to the kitchen, both of them falling silent as he interrupted whatever they’d been talking about. He took his time grabbing a watorade and chugging half down before he gave the two a pointed look.

 

“Kory, I know it’s your place and all, but want to maybe tell me why Spoiler’s paying you a visit?” _I like her, but Tim picked her over me and I’m currently crazy. Not the best way to keep her safe._

 

Kory just smiled at him. “So you know each other already!”

 

“Uh, not really,” Jason said. “Know _of_ , more likely. And what she knows about me came from you.”

 

“And Tim,” Spoiler said. “I’m Stephanie. Spoiler’s just for when I’m in uniform.”

 

Jason couldn’t help poking a little. “What, not Steph?”

 

“That’s for when I like you.”

 

Jason rolled his eyes. He had already known why Tim liked her, and this didn’t help. “Great. What do you want.”

 

“I’m here to talk to you about Tim,” she said, crossing her arms. “Because it’s about damn time someone does.”

 

“I will restrain you if necessary, Jason,” Kory added.

 

“Oh for fuck’s sake—” He dropped into a chair, making sure Kory was between them. “What?”

 

“Let’s cut to the chase,” Stephanie said, “and start with the fact that I know everything. I know about your history with him, I know about what’s going on now, I know his side because he _talks to me_ and I know _your_ side because you’ve got awesome friends.”

 

“Traitor friends,” Jason muttered.

 

“Friends who are tired off watching you _hurt_ yourself!” Kory said, rising up in her chair, hair floating around her. “And now, by X’hal, you will listen to what we have to say and work with us as we try to fix things!”

 

Jason dropped his eyes. “Okay, okay. Get it over with.”

 

“When Tim was two, his parent’s went away on a business trip. He got left with a nanny,” Stephanie said. “They were gone for two weeks, then stayed another two for vacation. They were home for another three months before leaving again. I don’t know exact totals, but besides working at their company, his parents spent about seven months out of the year traveling. They never took Tim with them.”

 

“Christ,” Jason said. Stephanie shrugged one shoulder and continued.

 

“When Tim was fourteen, they went on a trip to Haiti. They were kidnapped by some terrorist group looking for ransom money. His mom died there, and his father died a couple months later in a coma he never woke up from. To condense it, they kept leaving and leaving, and then they left for good. Dick stopped hanging around as often once Tim was trained. Bruce only really started to open up once Tim got _you_ back. And then there was you.”

 

“Yeah,” Jason said, not able to meet her eyes. “I got to stab him in the throat.”

 

“No,” she said, glaring. “No, you left. After he forgave you for it. You _left._ I knew how much he loved and respected you before I even got to learn his _name_ . How much he wanted your approval, how happy he was when you were out making friends, how selfish he felt for wanting to spend more time with you. Do you know how _ecstatic_ he was whenever you spent time with him, that someone actually wanted him around enough to seek him out?”

 

Stephanie leaned back in her chair, eyes distant. “I’d ask him how is day was and he’d tell me like, the most _mundane_ stuff about how you watched a movie together. Or kept him company while he was studying. Like it was something that didn’t _happen_ . And then, after all that, after bringing him out of his twitchy little shell, after making him feel like he actually deserved human company and was allowed a personality outside of being Robin, that someone cared about _Tim_ , you _left him_.” She rubbed at her eyes. “Do you maybe get the _picture_ now?”

 

“Jason,” Kory said. “I have been to visit Tim. It is obvious that he misses you as much as you miss him. You are hurting each other by being apart. Tim is not pushing to see you because he wants to respect your wishes to stay away.”

 

“And because he doesn’t want you to show up for half an hour just to leave again,” Stephanie added. “He had that enough with his parents. So here’s the deal. You go back and see him and if you have to take off you explain why and keep in freaking _contact_ with him when you can and then you go back to him on your own.” She crossed her arms. “And let me just say now that the only reason I’m pushing for that over making you promise to leave him alone until I can help him move on is because it’s stupid obvious that you’re as crazy about him as he is of you.”

 

Jason stared at the table, jaw clenched tight, remembering the turning point for him, when he figured leaving Tim alone was better than sticking around. When Tim had come to him all excited about the act that he’d be spending time with Stephanie out of costume. Talking a mile a minute about how she’d spray-painted the batmobile and now they could hang out like normal kids. About how someone had chased after _him_ for once, instead of the other way around.

 

He swallowed and made a decision.

 

“Okay,” he said. “He needs to know he’s worth it. But I’m going to need a chaperone, just in case. Don’t want to take chances.”

 

Kory nodded immediately. “Of course. There will not be need for it, but if it will ease your mind, consider the arrangements made.”

 

“Great.” Tim was worth it. He deserved the chance to make the choices himself. Jason would just keep telling himself that.

 

Even if he turned out to be a monster and couldn’t live with himself afterwards.

 

**\-----**

 

Jason spent a while going over what he wanted to say. The point was to make Tim feel better first and foremost and that meant explanations. Ones that he wasn’t so thrilled about having to give. Having to admit.

 

But this was important. _Tim_ was important. So Jason was going to try.

 

He figured the park would be a good place. Out in public, plenty of escape routes even if they chose a secluded spot. Kory would be close enough to come in and help if necessary. Steph was getting Tim into position. It felt more like a mission over a meeting, a reunion.

 

He didn’t feel ready.

 

\-----

 

“Okay Steph,” Tim said, as he settled down next to her on the blanket. “You ready to tell me what’s been going on?”

 

Steph grinned. “You always have to be so suspicious.”

 

“Comes with the job description. Also, you and Kory have been driving me _crazy_ . And whatever it is, it’s obvious Alfred is in on it. Though he’s better at hiding stuff than _you_ are.”

 

“Okay, okay,” she said, holding up her hands. “Just. You have to promise not to freak out, okay? Like, you actually have to stay seated and listen to everything.”

 

“Steph, what’s wrong?”

 

_I am_ , Jason though, shifting nervously. That would have been perfect entrance, if he’d actually wanted to come across as a creeper. He swallowed. Tim… Tim looked good. He was finally starting to grow into his body a little, filling out. He looked like he was actually eating; that was good. His hair was longer. He looked like he was getting along just fine.

 

“I’m going to ruin this,” he muttered. Kory gave him a sharp look.

 

“It’s not something I need to say, Tim,” Steph said, giving Jason his real cue. Jason rubbed the back of his neck and shuffled forward.

 

“Hey,” he said, trying for a smile.

 

Tim’s face froze, blanking off. “Hi Jason. It’s good to see you.”

 

Jason winced, and Steph actually smacked Tim on the shoulder. “Oh no you don’t, wonderbread,” she said. “You promised.” Her expression softened. “Just listen, okay? Really listen. He’s trying.”

 

“Why do you even—”

 

“Aaand I’m giving you some privacy,” she said, jumping up. “Gimme a buzz later Tim, okay?” She clapped Jason on the shoulder as she left, murmuring, “Be real. That’s all he wants.”

 

They stared at each other awkwardly. Jason _wanted_. He clamped his hands behind his back and tried to hide his tension.

 

“Mind if I sit down?” he said.

 

“Go ahead,” Tim said, glancing at the blanket.

 

Jason took the last couple of steps and sat down gingerly across from Tim, a few feet between them. “I really need to talk to you,” he said.

 

“Sort of got that.”

 

“No, I really need to talk. To _you_ . Tim. I. I have a lot to say. But only if you want to hear me out.” He ran a nervous hand through his hair. “If you really don’t want to talk to me, I’ll leave. I’ll never bother you again. But I—Christ, I have a fuckton to say and apologize for and _explain_ and… it comes down to that I’d really rather stay. With you. That you’d at least hear me out before making a decision, I mean.” Fuck it he was babbling but it’s been forever since they’ve actually _talked_.

 

Tim picked at the blanket. “I…I don’t mind.”

 

Jason let out a sigh of relief. “Okay. I’m going to start at the beginning. Sort of. It’s going to be—I haven’t. I don’t know how to say everything yet.” He barked out a laugh and covered his face. “Fuck _listen_ to me, I sound like a nutjob.”

 

“You don’t sound like a nutjob,” Tim said. “You’re uh. Nervous?”

 

“Right. Because I don’t want to mess this up.” Trained by friggin’ Batman, the both of them, and here they were acting like two kids at their first dance.  And _Christ_ not an image he needed in his head right now.

 

“The pit,” he forced out, in lieu of going down the road of Tim in a tux. “You never saw me when I was fresh out. I was crazy. I really was. I was killing everything, everyone I could, that they’d let me get my hands on. I was _drowning_ in this—rage and I couldn’t let it go. You found me when I was re-finding myself. Memories starting to come back, good ones and—bad. That’s why I—it’s why the stripping was what made me come back to Earth, enough to knock some sense back into my head of who I was and what I _wanted_ to fight. It wasn’t that you were getting rid of weapons or armor, it was that you were so fucking _young_.”

 

Tim let out a small noise and twitched, like he wanted to move and had held himself back at the last second. Jason just—pressed on.

 

“So yeah. That’s what brought me back to reality. Wanting to take care of scum that’d do that to kids. To anyone. It’s also why that’s the topic that kept setting me off, more than the others. When you came to me after B and I crashed heads that time…”

 

Tim touched his neck. Jason clenched his hands into his thighs and _didn’t_. “I remember.”

 

“Yeah, sort of hard to _forget,_ but you still don’t—okay, okay no, moving past that. You forgave me for knifing you. And I freaked out again and left. And I don’t think you got _why_ .” Tim opened his mouth and Jason held up a hand. “And I don’t want a reason from you. I want to tell you _mine_. Why I—” he swallowed hard and met Tim’s eyes.

 

“I never wanted to leave,” he said. “Kind of the exact opposite. I wanted to stay. I wanted to stay with you for as long as I could. Can. But I can’t protect you. I can’t protect you from myself, even if I can hold back the—the weapons, I’m also—I’m fucked up. I kept wanting to _hurt you_ . Can’t even blame the pit for that. I _want_ you, and it’s _twisted_ , and I’m fucking supposed to _punish_ those twisted fuckers not _become_ one— _damn it_ —” he threw a hand up to wipe his face and choked on a sob. “Fucking—” He wanted to be _good_ , he wanted to be good for _Tim_ he really fucking _did_

 

He felt the hand on his shoulder and jerked as Tim tentatively scooted forward, wrapping Jason in a hug. He felt warm, and safe, and _Tim_ , and Jason remember how it felt to sit snug next to him on the couch, Tim haltingly telling him the story of Frankenstein’s Michael.

 

“I’m not safe,” he babbled, but not wanting to pull _away_. Feeling Tim and _wanting_. “I’m not—Tim, you shouldn’t trust me not to snap, I’ve done it before, I—”

 

Tim’s eyes flashed and he grabbed Jason’s hand, bringing it up to the scar at his throat. Instinctively, Jason rubbed it with his thumb. “ _This_ ,” Tim spat out, “Was not the kind of snapping you have in mind. Have you _ever_ hurt someone like that?”

 

Jason shook his head.

 

“Have you ever hurt _me_ ? On _purpose_ .” Tim squeezed the hand he was holding. “Have you ever looked at _me_ and done _anything_ to hurt me on purpose.”

 

“No,” Jason whispered.

 

“Because you are _not_ like them, you never _will_ be like them, and I’ll hurt _you_ the next time you even _try_ to lump yourself in with that group of scum again _do you understand me_.”

 

“But you could feel it too,” he said, was the only thought he could latch on to. Tim flinching away. Tim making excuses. Tim knowing what was hiding under Jason’s skin. “That’s why you pulled away. You could feel that I wanted—that’s why—I left to make things better for you. I…” Tim was shaking. Tim was shaking and clutching at him and not saying anything, but Jason could feel hot, angry tears on his neck.

 

He brought his hands up, carefully, one around Tim’s waist, the other resting on his head. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I’m sorry. I fu—I messed up. I’m sorry. I _never_ would have left you, if I hadn’t thought that’s want you wanted. You wouldn’t have been able to get _rid_ of me. I’m sorry.” Tim just held him tighter. Jason stroked his hair and kept talking.

 

“I was jealous of Stephanie,” he said. “It was stupid, because it was great that you were making friends, but you were always so excited to talk about her, wanting to _share_ and instead of realizing anything _smart_ I just felt like she was getting more of you, and then you had your team which also bugged me which was _stupid_ because I had a team too. I just. I think that I worried, every time you came home with a story, that one day someone would remember they had _eyes_ and realize that you’re freaking beautiful on top of being smart and clever and funny and someone anyone should be proud to know and spend time with and want to spend _more_ time with and I also got mad when they _didn’t_ because how the fuck could they not realize how wonderful you were and I wanted to do something. I started. I started having dreams. Not good ones. About what I wanted to do, and it—”

 

He paused, breathed Tim in. “God this is so much better. Not—not you being upset and me being a massive headcase but just _holding_ you. And promising to stick around, if you’ll let me. That’s. That’s all I really want. I never wanted to leave. It was killing me to stay away.”

 

Tim pushed back, just a little, so he could see Jason’s eyes. His own were red and wet and desperate, hands digging into Jason’s shoulders. “Why?”

 

Jason swallowed. “That’s how people feel when they love someone.”

 

Tim squeezed his eyes shut, hands clenching and unclenching convulsively. “I’m sorry,” he said, sounding small, and broken, and Jason never wanted to fucking hear him sound like this again.

 

“Hey, hey it’s okay,” Jason said. “I don’t need—I just want you to be _happy_ , all right? That’s all I need. However that happens.” He wasn’t making Tim feel awful, even if he didn’t return his feelings. “I just want to love you.” He let himself brush Tim’s bangs out of his eyes. “You don’t have to love me back.”

 

And it was okay.

 

It hurt. It hurt, but it was actually okay. He still felt better than he had in ages, the dark, ugly presence in his brain receding when faced with actual emotions, _love_ now that he wasn’t putting himself first and alone. _Suck on that_.

 

“I’m sorry,” Tim said again, like he was forcing the words out, like he didn’t have enough air. Jason moved to repeat himself _it was okay_ but Tim pressed on. “I’m sorry for ever making you think you weren’t perfect. You made me so happy. You cared about me and noticed me and wanted to spend time with me and I thought—I thought I’d done something wrong because you left, that you were trying to make me feel better by acting like everything was normal after I brought you back. I didn’t want to do that to you, didn’t want you to be unhappy because of _me_ , it’s happened before, so I just—” he stuttered to a stop.

 

Jason reeled him in again, holding on tight. “I should have fucking tried harder to bring you back out of your shell again, but I was too busy wallowing. I’m never doing that again. Don’t you dare _let_ me do that again. Communication, we’re going to be the fucking _masters_ of it, do you understand.” Tim hiccupped out a laugh and the world was a fucking fantastic place.

 

“I love you,” Jason said again. So Tim could hear it again, so that it couldn’t be misunderstood. “I love you. Okay?”

 

Tim nodded and pulled back completely this time, wiping at his face. Jason let him go. Jason let him _go_ . That was _important_ , that he could.

 

“God, I must look like a mess,” he said, giving Jason a wobbly smile

 

“You’re perfect,” Jason said, shaking his head. “I. Look—” he rubbed the back of his neck. “Are we—are we good?”

 

“ _Yes_ , and oh my god, Jason, if you’re even thinking of taking any of this back—” It was said as a joke, but there was a hint of real fear there. You wouldn’t know it, if you didn’t know Tim.

 

Jason knew Tim.

 

“Hey,” he took both of Tim’s hands in his. “I’ve really missed you. I want to come home.”

 

“Yeah Bruce missed you too,” Tim said in a rush. “And Alfred of course. And me.” Jason nodded.

 

“Alfred’s great. Bruce and I are working on it.” He gave Tim’s hands a gentle squeeze. “But you’re home.”

 

Tim actually looked a bit dazed, like he couldn’t quite believe that, even after all Jason had said. “I—okay.”

 

He’d work on that. _Fix_ it. Remind Tim that he was a spitfire, convince him he deserved _everything_. “Can we go home?”

 

Tim smiled back. “Yeah. Let’s—let’s go home.”

 

 

 

**Epilogue**

 

Tim turned sixteen two days later. Jason hadn’t really thought he’d be able to celebrate that with him, so he hadn’t done much in the way of presents. He got Tim a card and a bunch of superhero T-shirts that he’d scoured the city for last minute. He even rush-printed a Spoiler shirt, paying extra for the specific eggplant coloring it needed.

 

Bruce had actually taken the time to be in the dining room at the right moment, and Kory, Dick, and Steph had come over too. Alfred made a cake, and Jason made sure to sing “Happy Birthday” as obnoxiously loud as he could manage. Everyone handed over cards and presents, and when Bruce mentioned some sort of birthday training simulation, Jason kicked him in the leg under Alfred’s approving eye.

 

It was a good night.

 

Jason felt bad about not having a present that _meant_ something though. He wanted it to be important. And when he came up with it, well, yeah it would take time and effort, but… he figured he had the right idea.

 

A couple weeks later, he was knocking on Tim’s bedroom door. It was late, and he was freshly showered from patrol, put it felt like the right time.

 

“Come in.”

 

“Hey,” he said, swinging the door open. “You awake?”

 

Tim was curled up on top of his covers reading a book. He was wearing the Superman pajamas Dick had given him for his birthday and looked adorable.

 

And while he was _every_ realm of fucking ecstatic that he was thinking “adorable” over anything else…Jason was maybe in trouble, a little bit.

 

“I wouldn’t have told you to come in if I’d been asleep,” he said dryly. “On account of being asleep. Did you just get back?”

 

“A few minutes ago, yeah,” Jason said, stepping further into the room. “Why are you still up?”

 

“Did you want me awake or didn’t you?” Tim huffed.

 

Jason grinned. Personality. He loved his life. “Sorry, baby bird. I just, uh. I had another birthday present for you.” He held up the wrapped package. “Sorry that it’s late.”

 

“But you already gave me a present,” Tim said confused, even as he scooted over to make room for Jason to sit down next to him. “The card. And all the shirts! Steph still keeps trying to steal hers, by the way. “

 

“So tell her she’ll get one for her _own_ birthday. Or she can make it herself, whatever. You keep your original.”

 

“I’m planning to,” Tim said. “I…I wanted to say thank you again for all that. I know you were the one who really set it all up.”

 

Jason shrugged. “I didn’t need to try very hard. Everyone wanted to come. I didn’t even have to drag Bruce up from the cave.”

 

Tim wrinkled his nose. Jason sort of wanted to boop it. Jason was turning into a sap.

 

Jason was never, ever going to complain about being a sap. It was worlds better than what the pit had wanted him to be.

 

“Speaking of Bruce, did you know what his birthday training simulation was supposed to _be_?”

 

“Uh. No?”

 

“Let’s just say it was _awful_. He didn’t actually make me run through it, but he had me read over the schematics. I’m never trusting him to plan a training simulation on his own ever again for the rest of my life.”

 

“That bad?”

 

“That bad.”

 

Jason groaned and flopped down next to Tim. “I should have kicked him harder. And we aren’t talking about him or the terrible birthday present that wasn’t.” He thrust the package at Tim. “Here. Uh. I hope you like it.” Why was he suddenly _nervous_?

 

Tim grinned at him and put his book down, before taking the present. He was one of those weirdos who carefully peeled off the edges of every piece of tape, which was _no_ way to dig into a gift. To combat this, Jason had very deliberately put down a piece of tape every half inch on the wrapping.

 

Tim noticed two pieces in, and looked up at Jason. “Really?” he asked. Jason smirked.

 

“Gonna have to open a present right _sometime_ in your life.”

 

Tim rolled his eyes, but he gingerly stuck a finger under the open bit of wrapping paper and tore, looking fond. He got back at Jason by tearing _carefully_ , only the amount needed to reveal the present.

 

Which he promptly stared at, glancing up at Jason before returning his gaze back to the unwrapped book in his hands.

 

_Frankenstein, by Mary Shelly. Revision by Tim Drake._

 

“It’s, uh.” Jason rubbed the back of his head. “There’s a dedication.”

 

Tim swallowed and opened the book, turning to the appropriate page.

 

_It’s a special soul who sees the men, not the monsters._

 

And Tim still wasn’t saying anything. “I was going to dedicate it directly to you, with your name and everything, but it felt weird since you’re the one who technically wrote it, so I. Yeah. And I’m not, you know, the greatest writer or anything, but I tried to match what you said, and match it with her writing style, and I hope it came out right. Like you wanted it to, I mean. I hope you don’t mind that I _did_ it, like at all, but I just. I thought it—”

 

“Jason.”

 

Jason winced and shut up. “Yeah?”

 

“This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you.”

 

Jason breathed out a sigh of relief and broke into a smile. Except that Tim still wasn’t looking up, mesmerized by the book.

 

Jason reached out to tilt Tim’s head up, to stroke down the side of his face. “I love you,” he said. “And you’re worth a billion thoughtful things.” Tim huffed out a laugh.

 

“You too,” he said. “I mean…yeah. Thank you. Again.” He stared at the book for a few more seconds before turning back to Jason. “You realize I have less than a month to come up with something that could even come close to this, right?”

 

Jason grinned. “Pretty sure you’ll think of something. That’s what all those brains of yours are for.” He squeezed Tim’s shoulder, kissing him on the forehead before getting up. “Try to get some sleep, okay? And maybe you can read some of it to me tomorrow.”

 

Tim smiled. “It’s a date.”


End file.
